


All Rise

by TakeFlight81



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drama, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Love, Relationship(s), Smut, vauseman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24209488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakeFlight81/pseuds/TakeFlight81
Summary: Vauseman AUPiper is a force in the courtroom. As she prepares for the biggest case of her life, nothing can throw her off her game.
Relationships: Piper Chapman/Alex Vause
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	1. A Snowman's Chance in Hell

A/N

Here we go again with some delicious Vauseman AU. I’m experimenting this time around with third person POV but I have to keep that first person feel alive so I’m sticking with that in the flashbacks,  _ which are in italics.  _ I hope you guys love this jumping off point. Let me know how you feel about it in reviews as you know I do delight in reading those! Follow the story as I intend to be pretty prompt about posting updates. Who wants to wait around for these girls to get on with the adventures?! Not I, said the fly. 

Enjoy!

________________________

“To the best damn Prosecutor in the country!”

The table erupts in cheers and clinking glasses as six smiles simultaneously meet their beverage of choice, kicking off the short evening celebration. 

She smiles and glances kindly around the circle of admiring eyes. “Seriously, you guys. I’m just the face of this force - you know it doesn’t happen without all of us. This is to US!” Her humility is one of a thousand reasons this team works tirelessly behind the demure darling currently correcting her executive assistant, “this is to every one of us.” 

She makes eye contact with each of her faithful crew around the table and genuinely thanks them for every minute of their efforts. Those countless hours have culminated in reaching a goal they work toward in every case but don’t always achieve - the sentencing of a very bad guy to a very long time behind bars. 

They’d worked themselves to the bone on this case and though Piper Chapman had given those brilliant closing arguments nearly three months ago, it wasn’t until today that the judge delivered his sentence. It was a sweeping win for the Federal Prosecutor and her team. In her mind though, it was more so a win for the country and a win for the thousands of lives that would now NOT be ruined by the devastating Heroin epidemic with which she spends her life at war. 

“Boss,” her newest intern speaks up after the natural lull following that first collective drink. “I’m pretty new here and this was my first case on the team so I have to ask...how many times have you caused so many tears from the jurors during a close? Does that happen often? Because you had them eating out of your hand!!”

“Look, Washington. We all know you’re kind of a kiss ass but it can slide this time because the answer is never. I have never seen that many jurors wiping their eyes during a close and I have been doing this a long damn time.” Polly Harper, the impeccable and inherently direct Executive Assistant speaks again. The group takes turns sharing quotes from Piper’s close and remembering how perfectly she executed the entire monologue.

Piper smiles in receipt of the deserved compliment. She’s good - and she knows it. Everyone knows it. So good in fact, she’s positioned herself as the most sought after prosecutor in the Sixth District Federal Court of New York. If there’s a drug case of any significant profile, the DEA calls her to prosecute. 

She’s worked hard and long for this level of success. After a short stint in the private sector right out of law school, she has spent all of her nearly 20 year career in district courts. She’s worked her way up as a District Attorney, through the ranks to a full blown prosecutor - and a damn good one at that. 

She looks around the table quietly observing the banter and good natured harassing happening between her work family. This team has been with her far longer than average, a testament to the kind of leader she is and the kind of culture she has fostered in her professional career. 

Polly steers this ship. Piper knows she would be as useless as a screen door on a submarine without the rock solid Executive Assistant keeping her organized and on track - not to mention on TIME. 

Her eyes travel to the other side of the table to Tasha and Cindy. She hired the two research assistants at the same time nearly nine years ago when she first achieved the title of Federal Prosecutor. They could find water in the desert. Piper smiles. They would give Google a run for its money. 

Washington is the newest face in the crowd. The intern has been working with the team for almost nine months and besides her photographic memory, she brings a wealth of knowledge in the realm of international logistics and law to the mix. 

Her input has proven invaluable even in the short time she’s been part of the team.They like to give her a hard time saying she’s a kiss ass but Piper interprets her approach a bit differently. She sees it as a fresh excitement and eagerness to prove she’s worth a spot on the team. While she doesn’t have the meeting to offer Washington a full time position scheduled yet, Piper has known for months that the intern has everything it takes to succeed on her team. 

Lastly, there’s Red. Immigrated from Russia as a teenager, she took an almost immediate interest in the American judicial system. During her interview eight years ago, she told Piper that her interest stemmed from the stark differences between her home country’s approach to justice and that of her new country. 

Upon taking her current role as a kind of legal historian on Piper’s team, she had been studying cases in the federal judiciary library for fifteen years. If a case has been tried in a federal court in the last twenty five years, Red can hit you with the highlights over a tray of vodka shots straight from memory. Her vast knowledge of case history is worth its weight in rubles - and Piper voices her appreciation to her as often as she can. 

Looking around the table, her heart swells with pride and gratitude at her lot. Piper gets to work with this incredible collection of women doing meaningful, albeit grueling at times, work. She’s lucky, she thinks. In this brief step away from the grindstone, she joins in with the merry crew to celebrate. 

It’s not her nature to stop and reflect on her success. From her vantage point, there’s so much more to be done. But these all-stars around the table help remind her, usually in the way of dragging her from her desk down to their favorite pub, that sometimes she needs to take the win and pop a top over it. So tonight, she does. 

Her coasting is short lived tonight, though. She’s not surprised when Polly stands, giving the team a cheerful pep talk. “Sorry to rain on the parade, ladies. But you know we have a big day tomorrow. The biggest of our days so far. Let’s go get some rest and bring our A game bright and early. I’ll have final briefing notes in the conference room at 8am sharp. Jury selection begins at 9am.”

She turns to Piper with an apologetic smile, “I still need your signature on the list of jury candidates, boss.” 

Piper rolls her eyes, “You know I hate it when you call me that, Polly.” 

“Would you prefer ‘Ms. Chapman’?” Polly delivers the question in her best (terrible) attempt at a British accent and grins. 

“God, no. Let’s go.” After goodbyes all around, Piper and Polly begin the short walk back to the courthouse. 

The main entrance closed hours ago so they use the staff entrance directly off the parking garage. Security at a federal courthouse is tight. The women show their badges to check in with the armed garage guard and walk toward the back of the parking structure. Even the staff entrance requires a swipe of a security badge on the outer door followed by a palm scan for the interior door. A second scan of the badge along with a unique pin code is required for entrance into the elevator which takes staff from the parking garage to the office levels three floors up. 

Piper sheds her coat and absent-mindedly places it in the small closet just inside her corner office. She leaves the door ajar as she and Polly are nearly alone on their floor. It’s not uncommon for them to be there late, joined only fleetingly by the routine rounds of the building’s security team every fifteen minutes. 

Sitting at her desk, the tired blonde rubs her temples gently as she brings her focus around for the last task of the day before heading home. Hearing a presence in her doorway, she looks up to see Polly lightly tapping a folder against her open palm. 

“You can just leave that with me, Pol. I will review it and email you a scan. You don’t need to hang around.” Piper smiles as she reaches out for the folder. 

Polly narrows her eyes slightly at her boss, “You sure? It’s no trouble for me to stay and wait for you.”

“No, I insist. I’ll have Joe walk me out. We have a big one tomorrow and your usually complex job of organizing my brain will be significantly exacerbated, as you well know. Go get some rest and I’ll send the email over within the hour.” 

“Sure thing, Piper. Get some rest, will you? You’re going to need all the energy possible for how totally you’re going to own the day tomorrow.” Polly gives her boss a parting wave and broad smile. Piper smiles back, grateful again for such an amazing team. 

Piper tries to take as many opportunities to let her staff leave as possible. They give her 110% all the time. And God knows, there are plenty of times when leaving early - or at all - is simply not an option. So being conscientious and encouraging them to go when they can is something Piper prioritizes for them. 

Herself, on the other hand, she isn’t quite so considerate of. She has spent the night on the couch in her office more times than she can count. The bottom drawer in her desk always holds a blanket, basic toiletries and a change of undergarments. She has several full changes of clothes hanging inconspicuously in the back of the coat closet. 

She lives and breathes her work. Her dedication to it has left little time in her life for anything else and she has always been perfectly content with that. Now, on the eve of the start of the biggest case of her career, she knows she can’t sleep here but that’s not to say she isn’t tempted. She needs her own bed, her morning routine and as full a night’s sleep as is possible given the simmering nerves she always hosts the night before she opens a case. 

Flicking open the folder, she begins the review of the forty three names listed in alphabetical order by surname. Randomly selected by a computer from the driver’s license database provided by the Department of Motor Vehicles - this is the list of potential jurors. 

Piper has carried out this process a total of seventy nine times so far, this being her 80th case in federal court. The defense attorney has received the same list. The two lawyers independently review the list and strike from it any name they have a personal connection with, any name that they feel might provide a conflict of interest or any name they feel will be knowingly or unknowingly partial to the opposite side of the case. 

If neither lawyer strikes any names from the list tonight, eight will be randomly removed from the list tomorrow morning and the rest will be shuffled out of alphabetical order, called in to the selection process in which the first twenty five of them will be interviewed by the judge and both prosecution and defense attorneys. Ten will be in a backup queue in the event that any of the twenty five are dismissed for any number of reasons. Ultimately, the defense and prosecution will agree on thirteen names from the interview process to compile the final jury for the trial. 

The process of jury selection is critical to the integrity of the case. Each lawyer is meticulous about the culling of the list, searching for any advantage or piece of personal information that might cause a juror to think more favorably of their side. Every available detail is considered. When face to face with the pool of candidates, Piper shines. The list though, isn’t much to go on. 

Name, age, gender, race, birthplace, driving record - this preliminary review of the pool is mainly to make sure no names jump off the page immediately. Even in a city this size, Piper has had that happen before - several times. 

Sometimes it’s a prominent figure in the community. Sometimes it’s an employee of a company that receives federal grant money. Sometimes it’s a personal connection, though that’s only happened once when Piper’s childhood neighbor appeared on a pool list. 

While she gives careful and unique consideration to each name before her, Piper most often passes through these lists with very little feedback to give, saving her adept people-reading skills for the interview piece of the process that will begin tomorrow morning. 

Her pen moves steadily down the list, pausing at each entry while she carefully reads the name. Forty one times her pen increments downward with a steady rhythm. Nearing the end of a long and intense day, Piper wills herself to sharpen her wandering focus to the last two names on the list. She never gets to number forty three. 

* * *

_ Salt. Sand. Sweat. Sea. My toes and fingertips feel like live wires, flailing without control in overwhelm as every one of my senses is literally assaulted with stimulation. The waves are deafening in my ears as dusk quickly extinguishes the golden hour on our private stretch of Balinese sand.  _

_ My nostrils flare in the presence of salty spray and skin as I move steadily in the water - my face in her hair, my body bare against hers. My mouth covers every available surface of her head and face, consuming her. Tasting her. Kissing her. Devouring her.  _

_ I lean back and allow her to catch me as my chest and face separate from hers. Opening my eyes, I take her in fully and let the other senses dim long enough for this picture to be seared into my mind.  _

_ We are waist deep in the Indian Ocean, my legs wrapped around her stomach and arms around her neck. I know it started as two but I’m certain now it’s three of her magic fingers that are fabulously buried into me just beneath the waves lapping at my navel. Her other hand keeps a firm hold on my thigh with no indication of relent.  _

_ Her breasts are my favorite sexual feature on a normal day but here, glistening and wet on full display for me in the moonrise - the sight of their swells and falls sends shivers down my spine. They are magnificent. She is magnificent.  _

_ Her devious eyes watch me survey her as she stops the pulse of her hand to speak, though when she does, growling is the only appropriate term for what she utters.  _

_ “Take what’s yours, baby…” _

_ We rarely go 24 hours without moaning the other’s name at least once, usually many more times. We mostly make sweet, considerate, tender love. Her body is my favorite altar and I offer myself there gratefully and often. She touches me in ways I thought only lived during the deepest of dreams or in fleeting fantasies. The honest truth is that I woke up when I met her. Life before her had been the fantasy and reality with her now is better than anything I could have ever dreamed.  _

_ “...I want to watch you dance on me...” _

_ Occasionally, we fuck. It’s wild and unpredictable. Usually, it’s fast and furious as we let ourselves be overcome with lust and longing. We both appreciate a roughing up from time to time and fighting for dominance as we throw each other around a bit.  _

_ “...I want to hear everything…” _

_ But this is different. It’s primal. Maybe it's because we are literally in the middle of nature, stripped down to our nakedness and in direct contact with air, water, earth and most definitely fire. Maybe it’s because we are surrounded by the sounds of the sea - allowed to be free with our voices and hold nothing back.  _

_ “...Give me everything you’ve got…” _

_ I’ve never felt so free. I trust her completely and let go. There’s no thinking - only feeling and responding to exactly what my body demands. I ride her feverishly, knowing she will keep steady the frame I cling to. I moan with abandon, joining the waves around us in swells and sighs. Fractions of her name occasionally fall from my lips but I’m mostly aware of the deep resonance rising from my core to escape in guttural groans and cries of indulgence as I shamelessly take what I need from her.  _

_ Her fingers respond to my aching as if she’s part of me. Soothing, sliding, serenading the needs she feels in me as she brings me to the edge of my resistance. I take her with a fervor bordering on violence. But there’s no malice in my railings against her body. This is unbridled and invited passion. And she is everything I need.  _

_ “... Come for me, baby...” _

_ I hear her final encouragement - her final demand - faintly as my world explodes into white and heat. I won’t know what I said or what I did until later when I ask her to describe it in detail. Hearing her tell me about what it looks and sounds like when I come for her is near the top of my list of most arousing things.  _

_ For now, I lose myself in the power of climax shouting into the sea, defenseless against the tidal crash of . I writhe against her and drag every ounce of pleasure from her fingers inside me and her mouth against my chest. I pull wildly on fistfuls of hair and feel myself buck against her in the delightful agony appearing just as that glorious swell slowly subsides.  _

_ Returning to my senses in a mess of panting and heaving, I mutter her name through a mix of breath and moans against her open mouth.  _

_ “Alex.” _

* * *

A crippling pain in her right hand violently pulls her mind to the present. Piper’s grip on the pen during the wandering of her thoughts has been so tight, her hand cramps around it. Groaning, she rubs the junction between her thumb and first finger in an attempt to ease the screaming muscle. Her eyes burn with a wild, uncaged rush of emotion. 

She counts backward from ten, desperately trying to calm the similar screaming in her mind at what this means. Her breath hitches and stalls in her lungs as she reels back to the reality of her present circumstance. 

She is obligated to strike the name at number forty two. She is LEGALLY obligated. To sign her name at the bottom of this list without doing so would not only jeopardize her case, it would jeopardize the career she’s worked to build. It would jeopardize the integrity of the team she leads. It could put her in contempt of court. It could result in hefty fines and most likely prison time. It could be the end of everything she cares about. 

Number forty two. Alexandra Pearl Vause. She hasn’t read that name in decades. She hasn’t uttered it aloud since she walked away from the woman she loved almost as much as life itself. It’s been more than twenty years yet in an instant, the reality of every sight, sound and smell of the force that is Alex Vause takes her breath away. 

The chaos unleashed in her by a single glance at it on the page after so many years is more than enough evidence for Piper to put a bold black line straight through it. And yet, she hesitates. 

Piper looks up to the ceiling of her office, closes her eyes tightly and releases a long, steady exhale. She looks straight ahead before opening her eyes. The storm in them has calmed to a gentle roll of deep blue waves. 

“There’s no way she makes top twenty five, let alone the final thirteen,” Piper rationalizes to herself. “Fuck you and your gin joint, Bogart…..”

Taking the pen in her hand, she scrawls her signature at the bottom of the page and walks to the printer before changing her mind. She types in Polly’s email address as the recipient for the scan and closes her eyes again as she comes straight up to the point of no return, her finger hovering over the green button that will seal her fate. 

“Fuck you, Alex!” she groans aloud as her finger drops. 

  
  
  



	2. Don't Hate The Player

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s go, let’s go! We are still setting the stage here for the girls to shine and I am happy with their introductions so far. I am trying to upload a chapter every day or two so we aren’t waiting. I’m as excited as you are :) Enter: Number forty two…  
> Enjoy!

**_Two weeks earlier..._ **

“Shit. That’s a pricey one,” she says as she throws her eyebrows up in confusion and drops the expensive underwire into a cardboard box at the back of her walk-in. _As if someone could just forget this? Too bad it’s too small for me._ The bra tops a heap of hodgepodge forgotten clothing, each item left by a woman leaving this house in a hasty walk of shame. 

Alex Vause suffers no shortage of female companionship. She took a sharpie to the side of this box three years ago, shortly after moving in to the place: “Lost and Found”. She collects the orphan items as a form of personal amusement. Hell, she’s only had to empty it twice. So far. 

She turns on her heel and saunters out of the closet to organize her thoughts for what’s left of this Sunday. Even though there’s not anything officially planned, she will easily fill the hours with regrouping from last night’s escapade, taking dinner to Linda, and prep for her week ahead. 

After starting the kettle to boil on the stove, she puts out a bowl of food and some of her salmon leftovers from last night for Hugh, the stray tabby by whom she had been unwillingly adopted almost three years ago. Checking her watch, she thinks he should be rolling in from his nightly neighborhood patrols any time now. 

Hearing the water whistle, she returns to the kitchen and busies herself with the French press. She grabs a muffin from the fridge and her steaming mug then wanders to the veranda to enjoy her breakfast in the midmorning breeze and wait for Hugh. 

Stephanie? Melanie? Brittany? For the life of her now, she can’t recall the name of the bra-deserter from last night. Shrugging her shoulders, she decides it doesn’t really matter. She takes a long inhale over her cup. This coffee, though. This is worth remembering. That first sip garners an audible moan. She does know how to make a good cup of coffee. 

Worth remembering. When was the list night she had worth remembering? The last woman she’d thought about beyond their contribution to her Lost and Found box? Though her mental rolodex was well beyond stocked with the gamut of sexual partners, it doesn’t take her long to flip through it and land on one very near the bottom of the deck. 

Every subsequent entry into her spank bank seems dull and well...not worth remembering. It’s not like she doesn’t enjoy herself with these women. It’s not their fault she is this hard to impress. It’s just that, she’s spent the last twenty two years looking for someone who could hold a candle to the name on that well-worn card she visits in her mind more often than she would ever admit. 

There are a few cards that garner a smirk as Alex recalls them. But it’s more a situational arousal, she thinks. It’s not the women that she recalls as much as the location of the deed, the risk factor involved, or the particular level of kinkiness associated with the encounter. 

The card she comes back to time and again isn’t about an exotic location or a risky exposure or a kinky night. It’s a face. It's a partner. It’s a lover. It’s Piper. Piper isn’t an entry in Alex’s deck of sexual conquests - she’s a whole deck unto herself. 

Alex has years of memories of the times shared with this woman. Not just of sex...of breakfasts in bed and birthday presents and Christmas mornings. Of candle lit dinners and takeout containers. Of top-down road trips singing Meatloaf at the top of their lungs. Of sand and sun and ski trips and Souvlaki. Of two years falling asleep and waking up to the same beautiful face. With Piper, she had memories of an amazing life. 

But the sex...she has plenty of memories of the sex. And in all those memories, even the ‘worst’ easily eclipses the best of any one of Alex’s subsequent wild nights. She was in a league of her own. 

She sips her coffee, letting her mind vacation to that beach in Bali - one of her favorite mental destinations. 

* * *

_ Watching her body will never get old.  _

_ Holding her as she tremors and jerks trying to steady herself in the wake of climax is a privilege I live and breathe for.  _

_ “I’ve got you.” I assure her gently. Even though there’s nothing gentle about the way she has just ridden me on this fucking beach. She is a goddamn animal. And I’m here for every second of it.  _

_ She lets me hold her for several minutes. Being in the water like this makes her weightless and we just exist together in the waves as darkness swallows the day. Soon enough, she releases her legs from my waist and seeks their strength to stand on her own.  _

_ We share a slow kiss as our chests find each other again. Far too soon, she pulls back and takes my hand. We don’t make it more than a few yards when she turns to kiss me again, picking up right where she left off as we stand knee deep in the surf.  _

_ She grinds her body into me forcefully, gloriously connecting every surface between us. I deepen our kiss with an unopposed entry of tongue and breath. I rake my hands through her salty blonde mane and tell her she’s mine.  _

_ “Yours, baby.” She purrs.  _

_ She lowers her face to my chest and fills her mouth with skin. Finding the stiff peak of my breast, she masterfully works a sensitive nipple with her tongue and teeth while alternating between gentle tugs and her wet palm on its twin. She’s brought me right up to coming like this before and she is well on her way again. I can’t help the small whines escaping my mouth as she enjoys me.  _

_ Her right hand is mercilessly kneading my ass, squeezing roughly at the junction of my thigh and cheek. I feel her nails dig into the crease there causing my moans to increase with their assault.  _

_ “Let me hear you, Al.” _

_ God, she embodies sex.  _

_ “Piper. You feel s….fuck.” _

_ She moans into my chest and continues her path down my body. Her other hand has joined the party on my ass as she settles in on her knees before me, kissing my thighs and revealing to me her intentions for the next few minutes. _

_ “Yours, baby.” _

_ She opens me with a slow kiss and her slow, curious tongue sliding through the center of my thighs. The sounds of the ocean around us aren’t deafening anymore but they’re certainly not quiet either. Even so, I hear her react to my arousal gratefully, stopping her tongue to gather as much as she can from its source.  _

_ She teases me with kisses and nibbles on my outer lips until I bring both my hands to her hair. She looks up but the moon is behind me and I’m certain she can’t make out my face even though I can see hers clearly.  _

_ “Open your mouth, Piper. Fuck me. Fuck me now.”  _

_ Her eyes roll back in her head and I hear her groan at my demand. There’s nowhere she’d rather be. Nothing she’d rather do than bury her face in compliance.  _

_ I watch her flawless form below me. She knows me better than I know myself in so many ways. In this way. She responds perfectly to every twitch, every jolt, every tightening of my hands in her hair. She plays me like an instrument just to hear me sing for her.  _

_ I know she wants to hear me so I let myself be much louder than usual. This is, after all, a very unique situation. My moaning peaks in time with her attention to my clit. I feel her smile and moan into her kisses each time I respond in this way. The vibration drives me nearly mad.  _

_ Moving her right hand from its hold on my ass, she slowly drags her nails from my ankle all the way up the inside of my leg. This elicits a shout from deep within my throat as I try to reconcile the sudden shades of pain with the extreme pleasure of anticipation at where those fingers are headed.  _

_ She never ceases to amaze me with the sensations she creates on every part of my being. She wastes no time in filling me with her fingers, tracing the lazy shapes in her mind’s eye into the deepest parts of me. Pulsing faintly and then withdrawing to her fingertips only to do it all beautifully again and again and again. My hips move freely in tandem with her hands, unlocked and urging her deeper with each dive.  _

_ She toes the line of my endurance as I struggle to prolong what is quickly unfolding as the pinnacle of my sexual experience.  _

_ “Piper...I’m so close…” _

_ I feel her left hand move between my legs. It’s been faithfully working the mound of my ass since she knelt in the water. Feathering the tender skin behind my entrance, she quickly gathers the velvety slickness there and I gasp in realization.  _

_ Holding her drenched middle finger against the center of my ass, she pauses as a request. Hearing no sign of reluctance, she enters me there slowly but without hesitation and I groan a desperate welcome.  _

_ I break helplessly in her hands. She continues the rhythm of her fingers with both hands, careful to catch and guide my hips back to her kisses as I shudder over her. She feels my knees buckle and gently withdraws her left hand from behind me in time to ease me down to face her in the shallows. Her right hand stays connected, still locked in between my seizing muscles.  _

_ She holds me as I gasp for air and balance, still clinging to her head with both hands.  _

_ “Piper. How are you so…Jesus, Piper.” _

_ She waits for me to release her fingers and wraps both arms around my waist, holding me up as much as close. She tilts her lips to press against my ear.  _

_ “Yours, baby.” _

* * *

She sets her empty mug down on the railing of the veranda and shivers as the memory fades like the initials they carved in the sand that night. Piper fucking Chapman. 

Needing a release for the newly gathered angst she feels, Alex descends to the basement for some work at the heavy bag and weight room she has constructed downstairs. She turns up the classic rock, hoping to drown out the memories and blow off some steam. 

She climbs the stairs two hours later on shaky legs, having sufficiently exhausted her body and distracted her mind from that faithful stop in the land of Piper. 

A hot shower and a sandwich bring her back to life and she turns her attention to the rest of her day. After a quick dip into the corner market, she returns with the makings of dinner as well as staples for the week ahead. 

Having spent the afternoon chopping vegetables and preparing lunches for the coming week, Alex finds herself standing in front of the impressive collection of wine in her pantry. She decides on a vintage cabernet to pair with the baked ziti she has working in the oven. 

Pulling the dutch oven from the stove, she carefully wraps it in a towel and sets it in her trusty picnic basket. She tucks the small loaf of garlic bread beside it and the wine under her arm with a glance at the clock. 5:02pm. Right on time. 

She slides into a worn pair of leather flip flops and crosses the street quickly. An open door awaits her at the top of the porch stairs so she calls out when she enters, “Dinner’s here, woman! Let’s get after it while it’s still bubbling!” 

“Be right out, Alex. Go ahead and get it started.” 

She walks the familiar path through the entry and into the kitchen. She finds the table already set for two and even the wine key set out between the plates. “She knows me so well,” Alex smiles to herself. 

She hears an approach behind her; Alex turns with a warm smile. “Dinner is served, Madam Carlisle.”

“Child, you are tempting fate calling me Madam. I may be seasoned, but I ain’t old enough for all that. It’s a good thing you brought my favorite or I’d have to put you out on account of your smart mouth.” 

Alex laughs heartily and bends to embrace the elderly woman as she rolls her wheelchair forward. “Linda, you know I love to rattle your cage. How are you feeling?”

Chuckling softly, Linda positions herself at the table and takes her wine glass, swirling it gently. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Now tell me about the wine you chose for us this week, child.”

Two hours later, Alex retraces her steps back across the street with an empty dish and a full heart. Her stomach isn’t suffering either. Her mom’s baked ziti never lasts long and it’s one of Linda’s most requested meals for their weekly dinner date. 

Stopping at the mailbox, she gathers what is likely four days’ worth of letters, ads and various envelopes destined for a direct flight to the recycle bin. “Seriously…” she mutters to herself, “don’t we do everything that matters online now? Save a tree, for God’s sake…”

Alex offloads the picnic basket on the counter as she quickly flips through the stack, dropping each item one by one into the blue bin. Nearing the end, she pauses at a fairly official looking envelope with her full name in the addressee window. “What the hell…”

Sliding a finger under the flap, she laughs in shock and denial as she unfolds the paper and reads the opening line, “You have been selected to report for Jury duty…”

“No. Fucking. Way.”

* * *

“Good morning, Vause” the sing-song voice of Alex’s administrative assistant greets her as she strides purposefully out of the elevator ten minutes before her first meeting of the day. 

“Good morning, Lorna! I trust you had a relaxing weekend.” She gratefully accepts a cup of coffee from the bubbly brunette and hands her a folded piece of paper in trade. “I need this to go away.”

“Let’s see here….oooooooohhhhhhhh! Mmmmhmmmmm….well. I’ll see what I can do.”

“I believe in you, Morello.” Alex pumps a fist in the air as she walks toward her office. And she doesn’t give the notice another thought. 


	3. When You Want It Done Right, Do It Yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another layer of history peeled back here in this chapter. 
> 
> We pick up the afternoon before the case opens…

“This is essentially the gameplan going forward...any questions?”

Alex turns to face her executive team and takes an extended survey of the faces around her conference room table. Heads silently shake back and forth, bodies lean back in their chairs, and no one speaks up. These are all very good signs. 

“I really appreciate the ownership each of the account heads and their teams are taking lately. It really bolsters my confidence that this is the right move for this company and will position us with so much more flexibility as we continue to extend our influence in these markets. You guys are crushing it and I’m excited to see you really run in the open field. Thanks again.”

Dismissing her monthly Executive Staff Briefing, Alex has just rolled out an adjustment of her role as President of the highly successful Real Estate conglomerate she founded eighteen years ago. She is positioning herself as logistical authority with a long tech connection that allows her to basically work whenever, wherever she wants.

Leaving the daily responsibilities and running of the firm to her capable staff, she’s ready for a step back from being in the office every day. For the next year, she will still be a regular presence around the building. Taking meetings one day each week and spending another mentoring agents in the firm at all levels will keep her visible and engaged with the pulse of the place. 

Her employee retention rate is insane. People love working for her even though she has extremely high expectations and standards of conduct for her staff. The ship is tight, and the result has been successful beyond belief. 

She started out with a library book on how to become a real estate agent twenty years ago and built this enterprise from the ground up. Now she picks up her manilla folder and caps the whiteboard marker before returning to her office. Most of the other agents utilize their tablets and the mounted projector for their presentations but Alex prefers things a little old school. 

She doesn’t use the inter-office messaging app or email to interact with her staff either. She will pick up the phone or walk over to their desks to nail down logistics or get meetings on the books. 

This fading practice of personal connection takes every one of her employees off guard initially. But they quickly come to appreciate her approach, as evidenced by their longevity and loyalty to her as a boss. 

Well acquainted with her preference for face to face interaction, Lorna knocks quickly on her superior’s open door several minutes later with several pieces of news. She opts to lead with the topic of her successful briefing since she knows the brunette will not be happy with the actual reason for her visit. 

“Good afternoon, Vause. Are you happy with the result of the briefing?”

“Yes. I am. I think it went well and the team was extremely receptive to more autonomy and responsibility. They’re ready - and even though it will be a pretty big adjustment given how many hours I am accustomed to putting in every week...I’m ready, too.”

“If anyone deserves a change of pace and some room to breathe it’s you, boss.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s you, Vause.”

“Mmmhmm. That’s what I thought.”

“I want to remind you that despite my best efforts, I was unable to get you excused from jury duty and you are required to appear tomorrow morning at 8:15am.” Lorna observes the brunette closing her eyes, placing her palms on either side of the document she had been reviewing and begins what appears to be a deep breathing exercise. She chooses to continue normally…

“I have cleared your schedule for the rest of the afternoon other than your happy hour “meeting” with Ms. Nichols at The Rabbit Hole at 5pm. I’ve also cleared your schedule for the rest of the week in the unlikely event that you are selected to serve on the jury for this case. I’ve booked you a room at the Williamsburg just across the street from the courthouse beginning tonight so you won’t have to fight the crosstown traffic.”

Alex doesn’t shake easily but the shades of red overtaking her normally pale countenance do nothing to hide her extreme irritation. Still, she refrains from taking it out on her assistant knowing that she’s doing everything she can to facilitate this major life interruption in the least painful way possible. 

“Thank you, Lorna. Please tell Nic I'll need one two on the table and one on the way when I get there.”

“Sure thing, Alex.” 

Lorna rarely uses her first name. Alex forces a smile as the shorter woman taps her rings against the door frame and gives a wink before returning to her desk across the hall. 

Alex is reeling. She fully expected to get out of this fiasco and now she is faced with the reality of appearing in a federal courtroom. Given her  **_colorful_ ** business dealings earlier in life, she considers the ramifications of such an official exposure - if there even are any. 

They know her basic demographic information - nothing that isn’t already on file with the DMV but this just seems so...vulnerable. She has long left her extra-legal life choices and has been a (relatively) upstanding, contributing member of society for a long damn time. She even pays taxes now, for Christsakes. 

Standing suddenly, needing air. Digging through the side drawer of her desk, she feels her angst increasing as she doesn’t find what she’s looking for. Striding toward the office door, she calls to her assistant before she crosses the threshold. Looking up, she meets Lorna’s understanding eyes and sees her brand of cigarettes extended toward her. 

“You need a raise,“ Alex states gratefully as she grabs the pack and turns out the slider to her office balcony. 

“This is a fucking disaster.” She mutters flatly between long drags of nicotine calm. It’s been a very long time since she smoked. Lorna must have known she would need this today. What a gem. 

Finishing her date with “fresh air”, she decides if she leaves now, she has just the right amount of time to walk the ten blocks to meet Nicky. She hopes the walk will clear her head and give her a little sense of anonymity among the city streets to combat the crippling feeling of exposure she’s currently battling. 

Walking into the dive bar, Alex spots Nicky at a table near the back. “Why do you always want to come to this fucking shithole, Nichols?” It’s seriously sticky in here.”

“That’s how you know it’s a good haunt, Vause!” The wild-haired strawberry blonde throws her hands in the air. “Those bougie places you like don’t even have tallboys - and you know that’s the only kind of boy I’ll put my lips on.”

Alex eyes the highball of whiskey neat on the table waiting for her. 

“Lorna said you needed two on the table so I had ‘em bring a double and there’s another one decked up for you when this one’s dry. Tough day?” Nicky sees the stress in her best friend’s face. She foregoes her standard level of shit-giving and gets straight to the point. “What’s going on?”

“First of all,” Alex drops into the seat opposite Nicky and sips on her glass, “Lorna is a fucking lifesaver and I am never letting her quit. So just know if you screw it up with her, she’s never leaving my office so just spare us all the awkwardness and treat her right, ok?”

Nicky deadpans back, “I’ve yet to hear a complaint but I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Perfect. Also, I have to report for fucking jury duty tomorrow morning.” She takes an extended drink of the warming liquid before her. 

Nicky’s face drops. “Can you do that, Stretch?! I mean…what about you know...your previous intercontinental importing and sourcing occupation and shit? I didn’t think they let people with that sort of experience serve on juries, no offense.”

Alex appreciates the uncharacteristically low volume of her best friend’s voice at this moment. “I don’t have a record, Nic. I was never arrested, never caught with anything illegal, never even questioned by any authorities here in the states or abroad. As far as anything official, there’s no proof that I was ever involved. Anyone who knew who I was when I left the organization is dead, NIc. I’m pretty much a ghost before I started over here with the firm.”

“Everyone who knew you is dead? You sure about that?” The redhead looks skeptical. 

Alex meets her eyes more intently than she intended to, “Yeah...I’m fucking sure.”

* * *

_ Ears ringing. Glass falling all over the street behind. People screaming, running past her in panicked shuffling. She picks up her own pace to run with the crowd away from the blackened warehouse behind her. The second floor windows are completely blown out and when she looks back, all she sees is smoke billowing into the night sky.  _

* * *

“You ok, Vause?” Nicky searches the brunette’s blank face before waving a hand in front of her eyes. 

“What?”

“Where did you go just then?” 

Alex wills herself back to the present and tries to remember the last thing Nicky said, “I’m sorry...I’m back. What did you say?”

“I said you probably won’t get picked anyway. Most of the time, you just go sit in a room for a few hours till they tell you they don’t need to and then you leave,” Nicky does her best to reassure her friend but she can clearly see that Alex’s mind is elsewhere. 

“I gotta go, Nic. I’ll call you. Have the next one on me.” Dropping a fifty on the table, Alex stands and glances at the concerned face of her friend before turning to leave. “I’m good. I’ll call you.”

Nicky knows better than to follow her but she watches as her best friend places her hands on the door of the bar, hesitating for a moment before pushing it open and throwing her hand up to hail a cab. 

The instant her hands connect with the cold steel of the door, her mind flashes back to the busy Malaysian street that met her as she exited a similar door half a world and half a lifetime away. She throws up her hand to hail a cab as her mind struggles to remain in the present. 

Alex drops into the back of a cab and manages to give the address of her office building before closing her eyes in surrender to the recollections she can no longer fight. 

The memories are choppy and hazy. A flash here, a frame there. Like a film strip rolling with the audio and video slightly out of sync. Suddenly, the reel spools and in a moment, she recalls it all perfectly. 

* * *

_ She coordinated the locations and timing of large amounts of heroin and large amounts of cash. She could coordinate the movements of a few drug lords, right? She knew she would never survive leaving this life unless everyone who knew her actual identity was dead.  _

_ She wanted out but there was only one way. It was kill or be killed - she could see that with crystalline clarity. Surely getting that handful of people in the same place for a night wouldn't be that hard?  _

_ None of her mules or underlings knew her real name or any personal information about her. None of the peer colleagues knew each other - Kubra kept things very siloed in order to drive competition and keep things compartmentalized. Only a small handful of people at the very top of the organization knew the details of the structure.  _

_ She knew the layout of every warehouse and meeting location in their main markets. She just needed the right opportunity and a location where the kitchen shared a wall with their meeting room. She carried out her plan with calculated precision.  _

_ Waiting for discussion to turn away from her direct market responsibilities and excusing herself for a smoke. She moves along a logical and inconspicuous route via the kitchen.  _

_ Turn the ovens on.  _

_ Light the candle and leave it burning on the counter.  _

_ Walk right out of the building, out of the cartel.  _

_ Out of life as she knew it and never looking back.  _

_ She counted to herself. She knew if she could get to 30, she would be far enough away from the building to avoid injury. She made it to 26...close enough.  _

_ Boom. _

* * *

“I’m fucking sure.”

“Sorry? Look lady, I just need you to pay the fare.” The cabbie is coming to the end of his patience with the fidget, muttering woman in his back seat. 

Snapping back to her present reality, Alex shoves her hand in her pocket. “Shit. Sorry. Here.” She hands him a $100 bill and opens the door to get out. “Keep the change.”

Alex finds her car in the underground structure and turns over the engine. She wraps her hands around the top of the steering wheel and lays her forehead against them. Everyone who knew her then was dead. Well...almost everyone. It’s been over 24 hours since she last thought of the blonde - a long stretch in comparison to most of her days. 

Piper. She’s the only one who knows what skeletons shake in her closet. But Alex isn’t worried about her. If Piper was going to burn her, she would have done it already. 

“Hell, she broke my fucking heart and she didn’t even want to,” Alex sighs as she striaghtens in the driver’s seat. Why couldn’t she have seen the writing on the wall when the woman she loved could?

It was much the same situation for Piper when she left Alex - kill or be killed. Break or get broken. Get out or go down with the ship. Alex couldn't see it then, but it didn’t take her long to understand that the only thing Piper loved more than her was her own life. And she wasn’t willing to sacrifice it on the altar of Alex Vause. 

By the time she decided to leave the cartel, Piper was long gone. Alex had well and truly fucked up the best thing in her life in a moment of panic and stupidity. Piper didn’t ask for much from her, but Alex got lazy. She lost her way and Piper knew the only way she could find it again was without her. 

So she left. She hated herself for it but she left. “I will always love you, Alex. But you know I can't do this. I won’t do this.” And she was gone. 

Alex knows Piper is the safest place on this God-forsaken planet when it comes to her secrets. What does it matter? She’s never going to fucking see her again anyway.


	4. When The Bell Tolls

The sound of an incoming call over the speakers in her car interrupts her Spotify sing along. She shouldn’t be as surprised as she is at the readout on her dash display but her thoughts for the last twenty minutes have been anything but clear.

Trevor is calling for what has become their nightly check-in on the days they don’t see each other. She debates sluffing the call but decides against it, taking confidence in the idea that she can keep it short and sweet. 

She has a forty minute commute across the bridge to her New York home at this time of the evening. Tomorrow morning in traffic, it will be north of an hour. She’s about ten minutes from home now and intends to have this call wrapped by the time she cuts the engine in her garage. 

“Hey baby, how’s the day?” The deep baritone voice rolled into the cab of her sedan with kindness and warmth. Until now, these croons had brought Piper a mix of comfort and arousal upon hearing them. 

She notes how flat she feels at his greeting tonight for no apparent reason. Except she knows the exact reason for her lack of enthusiasm, apparent or not. “It’s been a big day, Trev. I’m wired and exhausted all at the same time and I just want to have a bath and get to bed. I will be happy when tomorrow is behind me.” 

This statement now carried much more weight than it would have just half an hour ago. Now, it wasn’t just about pre-trial nerves and the jitters that actually help sharpen her in her moments before the open court. Now, it was about the angst and anticipation of possibility. 

Tomorrow might mean a reunion of sorts with the single most influential person in her life - for better or for worse. And (if Piper is honest, the more likely scenario) it could mean Alex is dismissed before she ever gets to the courtroom and they never see each other at all. 

If the unlikely does happen though, Alex will be completely blindsided. She will have no preparation and as much turmoil as Piper finds herself in now, she knows it will pale in comparison to the blow that Alex will take in the event they find themselves in the same room tomorrow. 

She will have had twelve hours to process and attempt to gather herself. Alex will have seconds. If she causes a scene, if she indicates recognition, if she tells the clerk that she knows one of the attorneys the outcome could be catastrophic. Everything Piper knew about her indicated that her poker face is strong - and Piper is betting her life on the hope that Alex can still hide an ace. 

“You want some help in that bath?” Trevor is still on the line though Piper is a million miles away. 

“What?” The sharpness in her voice escapes without permission. She breathes and gathers herself. “I mean...I’m going to take it easy and try to get to sleep early. I’ll see you for dinner tomorrow night if all goes smoothly in court.” She recovers marginally and manages to close the conversation without letting too much more of her irritation cross the cellular connection. 

Once home, she muses over Trevor and his sudden inadequacy after the reintroduction of the long-buried force of Alex Vause into her psyche. She’s glad she isn’t more attached to him in any official capacity because she heard the death knell ring the moment she read that name on that page. 

She methodically removes the day from her tired frame. Tote finds the hook inside the door. Lunch containers long ago emptied and rinsed find the sink. Clothes find the laundry bin. Contacts find their case. And a now naked woman finds the shelter and solace in a scalding tub. She lowers herself slowly into the pool as notes of lavender and honey soothe her racing brian. 

Poor Trevor. Up against Alex, there was no comparison. She’d never had a lover play in the same league as that raven haired goddess. 

The connection to her was so innate, so predestined, so visceral that without her, Piper had to recover in much the same way a stroke victim would have - or an amputee. Everything felt foreign for months. Incomplete. The void of Alex’s absence threatened to swallow her whole. She had to re-learn every process required to live without something so vital, so natural, so right. But so fucking wrong. Dangerously wrong. 

* * *

_ I was stunned. More than stunned - I was decimated. “Excuse me?” _

_ Her face was buried in her laptop and I could see the knots of stress twisting her shoulders and forehead. “I really need this, Babe. It’s just a short trip. I have no one else.” _

_ I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. This was my deal breaker and she was calling my bluff. And I couldn’t believe it was happening.  _

_ She had been in a spiral for days. My normally calm and collected, caring lover was maxed out and beginning to unravel under the stress of her very demanding job. A job from which I required complete separation. This was her responsibility and I wanted no part of it.  _

_ It was my only requirement and she knew that. This had never been a subject of ambiguity and yet here we were. “I’m here for you, Alex. Only you. Not for this. How could you?” What I needed from her was suddenly too much.  _

_ Her eyes met mine. They were full of hot anger and what I could only interpret to be a crushing sense of betrayal that matched what she saw in my own. Her face contorted through a laid open display of confusion, realization and finally devastation as she realized what was happening.  _

_ I doubled over in agony as my heart exploded. Falling to my knees, I sobbed. I had no words as the flood of anguish overtook me. I felt myself fall from the most important place in her heart. The only thing I had asked of her wasn’t important enough to protect, to respect.  _

_ My world was in a tailspin and all I could do was hold on until the ground settled again. I was vaguely aware of her embrace, her apologies, her kisses on my head as I found my way to the bed in a daze. _

_ It’s hours later when I stand, broken but resolved. I throw a few things I can’t live without in my roller bag and my passport and enough cash from the top drawer to get me back to the States.  _

_ I find her in the living room of our Paris hotel suite in the same position over her laptop she had been before. She looks up and though she was calm at that moment, I can tell she has been crying.  _

_ “Baby, I’m sorry.” _

_ “Sorry you asked or sorry that it was even a thought that you could?” I am calm and almost stoic. I can tell the empty tone in my voice startled her.  _

_ Shs never stutters, never falters, is never at a loss for words but when she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out.  _

_ “I love you, Alex. I will always love you but I can’t do this. I won’t do this.” The finality in my statements surprises both of us and I know if I don’t act on my words immediately, I never will.  _

_ “Please don’t do this.” She begs for the first time in my recollection.  _

_ I recognize this moment as the few you have in a lifetime where the words you’re actually exchanging are merely a peep hole into the bigger conversation you’re actually having. In both conversations, I have only one option.  _

_ “This isn’t want, Alex. You are what I want. I love you so much but not enough to cross this line. The fact that you asked me to, knowing how I feel about it is something I can’t get past. I love you. And I have to go.” _

_ I lean down to kiss her one last time, our tears mingling in a smear of heartbreak over both our faces. And then I leave. And I can’t breathe.  _

* * *

Every day she had to have the same conversation with herself. Questioning her decision over and over until the back and forth nearly drove her to the point of insanity. She left for her own safety - but was this really better? She left because she thought everything would change for the worse if she stayed - but everything had changed anyway and now she could hardly function. 

That night, Alex had violated her one and only non-negotiable boundary. She was so submerged in Alex’s ocean that she nearly lost herself. So magnetized to her presence that she nearly gave up her own existence apart from her. 

Their relationship had been so codependent and conjoined that the trauma of their separation had been nearly fatal to both halves of their shared existence. The only thing that could have shaken Piper from her trance was this - the request to blur what she had considered an uncrossable line. 

She was different, or so she thought. She was special. She was above and entirely apart from the shady dealings of her lover - until Alex asked her to carry a satchel of bills and become just like every other girl Alex had ever wooed. Her pride was so woundeed that she refused to overlook the gash. She broke. She left. Then she broke again.

Those long dark months after she returned from the home she and Alex had created seemed like they would never end. But eventually, Piper emerged. ‘Survived’ would be a better word choice. She turned a corner and decided to use all that pain for something redemptive. She had rebuilt her life in such a spectacularly retaliatory fashion. 

She had come back, went to law school, worked her ass off. She was a federal prosecutor. She brought down drug lords and bad guys and considered it her life’s mission to gain some sort of redemption for her ancillary role in this dark and dangerous world of heroin. 

She had recovered from Alex. 

* * *

Alex reaches for her phone on the bedside table without looking toward the sounding alarm. She’s been awake for almost an hour staring at the ceiling. “What’s the worst that can happen?” She had asked herself when it became clear that sleep wasn’t happening anymore. 

Her options were pretty straightforward: Either she would be excused or she wouldn’t. If she is NOT excused, the worst that can happen is she is stuck in a courtroom for days pretending to care about whatever dipshit crime has been committed in the great state of New York. 

All in all, this is not that big of a deal, she reasoned. Her past is in the past and had no bearing on her current dilemma. She rolls out of the surprisingly comfortable bed and throws on a pair of shorts and sports bra before heading to the gym for a quick run before bracing herself for whatever this day holds. 

She heads back to her room and phones for room service to bring up breakfast. At first, the brunette was hesitant to stay at the hotel thinking she would probably sleep better at home in her own space but she is glad now that she took Lorna’s advice. 

A five minute walk across the street beats a ninety minute drive in cross town traffic any day of the week. This arrangement allows her to relax, eat, and workout in the mornings with time to spare. 

She assembles herself before the full length mirror. Alex is pleased with the black pantsuit she has chosen from her garment bag hanging in the closet. She opts for a dark gray cashmere sweater vest under the blazer in case it’s warm wherever she is and she needs to shed a layer. 

Finishing the picture with a modest heel and choosing to leave her hair down, she shoulders her bag and hits the light before exiting her suite. 

The walk to the Federal Court House proves shorter than Alex needed and before she was really ready, she found herself standing before a metal detector with an armed guard checking her ID against a clipboard. He had a kind face, which was disarming. But Alex wasn’t expecting to encounter the same level of security she would at the airport. 

She smiles at the agents and engages in her practiced internal dialog. “This is normal. Everyone has to be checked. Take a breath. This is a Federal Building.” She must admit it's ironic that the only times in her life when she’s actually been searched are the times when she has nothing to hide. 

Removing her blazer and heels, she carefully lays them in the bins on the conveyor belt. She walks through the metal detector without incident and reassembles herself on the other side. 

An official looking woman approaches her, “You’re here to report for jury duty?” She asks but it’s not really a question. Alex smiles, nods and follows her outstretched hand toward the end of a hall. “Room 105, ma’am.” The woman directs. 

Her heels click authoritatively along the tiled corridor, masking the apprehension she feels with this new experience. She finds the wall placard reading 105 and takes a deep breath before opening the door.  Entering the room, she observes several rows of tables and chairs facing the front with a small pamphlet explaining the honors of civil service at each place. Nearly half the chairs are full with five minutes left before the official time they were summoned on the notice. Alex can’t help but think many are cutting it close on time. 

Over the next few minutes though, the remainder of the chairs fill and the same official looking woman from before approaches the front of the room. She introduces herself as Wanda Bell, gives some brief instructions on how the next several hours are going to play out and Alex follows with genuine interest. 

They’re each going to be assigned a number and lined up in order before proceeding to the courtroom. Once there, they’ll be led to where they’re supposed to sit and the process of interview and excusal will begin. 

The judge will spend the first hour or so asking questions to the group of them and requiring responses. Then the prosecuting and defense lawyers will each have a chance to interact with the jury pool and ask individual questions. The group is told to expect comments and inquiries directed to them specifically from the attorneys and to answer as truthfully as possible. 

Once the questioning and interview process is over, the clerk of court, the lawyers and the judge will agree on thirteen of them to be part of the jury for this case. Everyone else will be excused. 

Alex is pretty sure this is going to be a short day. There are thirty five people in the room and only thirteen will end up on the final list. Those are pretty good odds for her to get out of this unscathed. 

The list of names and numbers begins and Alex is surprised to hear hers so fast. Number 8. They all file out a different door than they came in by and up a closed stair case. Alex determines this must be so they don’t have to use the main stairs just past security. 

They parade down the second floor corridor toward the elevator like a procession of school children walking single file from recess back into class for the day. Everyone seems to be fielding a healthy level of nerves. It’s a quiet and brief walk as they all begin to file in the large wooden doors held open for them by a smiling Ms. Bell. She puts a hand to Alex’s shoulder as she passes. “Have fun!”

Returning the smile, the brunette gives a husky chuckle. “Thanks Wanda. I’ll do my best.”

The courtroom isn’t huge but the ceilings are high, giving the illusion that it’s larger than it is. Everyone in the courtroom is standing as they enter, which strikes Alex as odd. The pleasant-faced judge is directly ahead as they enter, smiling at them as they file in under the direction of the assistant who had led their line from downstairs. There are two tables with three people at each, one along the right side of the room and one facing the judge’s bench. The jury box is at the right side of the room, completing the square toward the front of the room, then three rows of bench seating fills out the rear.

Focused on not tripping up the stairs or running in to the man in front of her, Alex is relieved when she gets to her seat and can turn to look at the room more closely. She’s in the actual jury box as her number is 8. Several rows of folding chairs sit on the floor of the courtroom just in front of the box for numbers 14 through 25. She watches as the remaining ten of her group are guided to the back two rows of bench seating to her right. 

Everyone is standing now as the last few in the line take their places. The judge instructs everyone to be seated and begins speaking. Alex’s eyes scan the room. At the table directly in front of the jury box sits a blonde man in a sharp navy suit, a young looking African American in a blue button up oxford and khakis, and another African American gentleman wearing a tan suit. 

At the table to her right sits three women - a blonde, an older woman with shortish red hair and a much shorter brunette. The blonde woman is looking down at her notes and her left hand obscures most of her face from the side Alex is on. She is well dressed in a pinstripe skirt and blazer pair. Her hair is pinned up in a classy bun. She's about to move her eyes to observe more about the older red-haired woman when the blonde drops her hand to the table. 

Alex feels the blood drain from her face as her hands clench to fists and all she can hear is her own heartbeat railing against the cage of her chest. She would know that profile in a crowd of a million faces. Every ounce of moisture in her mouth evaporates in an instant as her eyes fill. 

The blonde is still looking down but her eyes are closed. She looks different. Older. Time stops as the brunette’s mind races at breakneck speed. Piper is the prosecuting attorney. She knows Alex is here. She is stalling with the move of closing her eyes and keeping her head down, presumably so Alex can have this split second to process before the inevitable. 

Alex is eternally grateful that she’s sitting down as she scrambles internally while trying to keep her expression blank. Neutral. Unmoved. But when those blue eyes finally turn toward the jury, they land on only one set emerald greens that can’t hide their recognition. 

The eye contact is brief but Alex is reeling. She practices her breathing and looks to the judge, debating what her courses of action are in this moment. Before she gets fully through her thoughts, her ears tune in to the words coming from the judge’s bench. 

“Take a quick look around the courtroom and see if you recognize any of the faces here. If you do, please raise your hand and and let us know.” He pauses for what seems like an eternity and Alex looks casually back toward the prosecution’s table. Piper is looking at the other faces in the jury but meets Alex’s eyes as soon as she sees brunette locks turn. Alex holds her gaze intently for several seconds as the judge continues, “Seeing no hands, I will ask you all to raise your right hand and repeat after me. In so doing, you are affirming under oath that you have no connection to or recognition of any of the staff, attorneys or defendant here today. If you affirm, say ‘I do’.”

Alex won’t let Piper’s gaze go and repeats the phrase while looking directly into her eyes. 

“I do.”

It takes several hours to move through the selection process. As distracting as Piper’s presence in the room is for Alex, she is fascinated by the process she’s currently part of. She’s also fascinated by the poise and presentation of the prosecuting attorney. 

She looks the same, but different. She carries herself with a grace and authority that is new to Alex. She must have really found her stride over the years. She is definitely a bit older in her features but her face remains soft and youthful. She’s turning 46 in a few weeks, Alex realizes, but she doesn’t look a day past 35. 

The judge asks several questions of the jury members collectively before handing over the interview process first to the prosecution and then to the defense. During her questions and interaction with the jury candidates, Piper is calm, approachable and even funny at points. 

She asks different hypotheticals of several different members before speaking to the woman to Alex’s left. “Pretend you’re in a restaurant but there’s no signage or menus. How would you go about deciding what to order?” 

_What in the hell kind of dumbass question is that?_ Alex thinks to herself. 

The woman is confused and clearly doesn’t know how to answer. “Who would you ask about the food choices?” Piper continued. “Um…..the lady at the door, I guess.” The poor woman seems flustered and very uncomfortable at being singled out. 

Piper looks down at her notes, “Miss ah….” she scrolls down the page with her finger and stops, “Miss Vause.” Alex steels her face and hears the first words Piper has spoken to her in over two decades, knowing full well the last ones she heard changed her life forever. 

“What about you? How would you decide what to order, Miss Vause?”

“I’d go to the bar and order a margarita. Then I’d have the bartender to bring me the chef’s choice. Sometimes you just have to take a chance on something new even if you don’t have all the details.” Alex delivers her answer laiden with messages only Piper will recognize in casual confidence and it achieves the desired effect as the blonde returns her eyes to her paper trying to cover the fact that she is flustered. If Piper is going to ask a seemingly brainless question, Alex is going to give her an answer worth remembering.

The prosecutor continues with her questions for several more minutes before relinquishing the floor to the defense attorney. Alex watches her as closely as she dares without being overt.

She knows that the only reason she is sitting here is that Piper has already lied about knowing anyone on the list of jury candidates. She would have had veto power before this whole thing even started. Even now, the lawyers are excusing people one after another for various reasons and some for no stated reason at all. 

The defense attorney carries out his lines of questioning to the potential jurors and a few more are excused. Little pow wows between the judge and the lawyers happen every few minutes as the time ticks down to the final list. Alex is sure now that Piper isn’t going to excuse her. It really comes down to whether or not the defense attorney has an issue with her staying at slot number 8.

As the judge reads the list aloud, Alex has her head tilted down at her hands in her lap. She stops listening after she hears her name called and raises her eyes to see blue ones already looking at her. Caught staring, Piper quickly mentions something to the brunette beside her and continues to shuffle the papers in front of her. 

Alex would have lost a lot of money betting how this day would unfold. But she’d double down just to stay and see what happens. 

  
  
  
  
  



	5. Spiders Across the Stars

All eyes are on the judge as he makes his first remarks to the thirteen official jurors. He has just excused the remaining people who were not selected to serve and turns his attention now to those in the box. 

“Thank you in advance for your service and for the sacrifices I know are inherent in putting the rest of your lives on hold for the duration of this trial. Know your country thanks you and so do I. This process can’t happen without you. You are vital to the integrity and function of our judicial system. 

We're going to take a nice long lunch and begin with the reading of the juror’s instructions and opening arguments at 2pm. Please take the next...let’s see that’s right at two hours...and get some lunch, relax a little. This afternoon will demand your dedicated focus. 

I do need to inform you, and I will be reminding you before each time we recess that you aren’t to discuss the details of this case with your fellow jurors or anyone else, attempt to gather information on the case from any sources other than the information presented to you inside this courtroom, or engage in any contact with anyone you see in the courtroom around you other than your fellow jurors. We'll see you back here at 2pm.”

Everyone in the courtroom stands as the jury files out of the box and out the side door of the courtroom to the jury room. Wanda instructs the group that this will be a secure room and they are free to leave whatever they would like here while the trial is in session. There are two bathrooms directly accessible from inside the room, a fridge, coat racks and thirteen chairs around a square table. 

She also encourages the group to check out the list of nearby lunch options posted to the bulletin board at the back of the room, reminding them that they have just under two hours before they need to be back in the courtroom and ready to begin. 

Alex walks in and finds a chair near the back corner of the square. She lays her blazer over the back of it but doesn’t sit down. She has no intention of staying in this room if she doesn't have to. Taking a juror badge from the stack Wanda passes around, she excuses herself with several of her fellow jurors and exits the building. Quickly crossing the street, she makes her way straight back to her suite and orders a sandwich up from room service. She collapses on the bed and sets a timer on her phone. 

For the first time in hours, she lets her body and mind catch up to the reality of what is happening..and it hits her like a flood. Never. Not in a million years for a million dollars would she have ever believed this would be possible. 

Piper fucking Chapman. 

And she has to pretend. This in and of itself is not really a challenge for Alex. She’s always had a cat-like ability to land on her feet and think on the fly for any and all unexpected circumstances. 

But this is a decidedly different level of spontaneous composure-keeping. And she's never been disingenuous when it came to Piper. For reasons still unclear to her, she had never felt the need for pretense. Alex had actually never lied to her or for her - until today. 

She picks up her phone and presses 1 as the panic begins to close around her. There’s only one person to call right now. 

“Baby girl, you know I will take your call day or night but I’m getting my hair done. Can I call you back in an hour?” 

Alex ignores the request, choking out words between stutters and gasps. “I’m on a Federal jury, ma. Piper is the prosecuting attorney and I think I’m going to be sick.” Alex is deep breathing into the phone, trying desperately to keep her voice steady and not empty the meager contents of her stomach all over the bed. 

Diane Vause straightens in her chair suddenly and tries to follow the random facts being fired at her across the phone line. “Alex, you’re going to be ok. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. You’re going to have to back up and help me understand what’s going on. Where are you right now?”

The older woman is well acquainted with the process of walking her daughter through a panic attack. It’s been quite awhile since she got a phone call like this but she doesn’t miss a beat in helping the younger Vause return to a place of calm. 

“I’m in my hotel room.”

“Tell me something you can see with your eyes.” Step one. 

“I see two water stains on the ceiling and a really shitty painting of lily pads over the desk.” Alex’s eyes dart around the room wildly.

“Tell me something you can hear with your ears.” Step two.

“I hear the traffic outside and the clock on the wall ticking. It’s oddly loud for a clock.” Breathing as deeply in as slowly as she can, Alex fights to stay present.

“Tell me something you can smell with your nose.” Step three. 

“Crappy fake lavender bathroom cleaner.” Even in a panic attack, she can detect that garbage. 

“Tell me something you can taste.” Step four.

“The puke I’m holding back.” Alex chuckles dryly as she takes a steadier breath in through her nose.

“Ok gross. Tell me something you can touch.” Diane knows her daughter is coming back and calming down. 

“The sheets on this bed are surprisingly soft. I slept better than I thought I would. I’m not sure I will have the same experience tonight though. What the fuck, mom?” Alex is back. She’s shaken up, but she’s back. 

“I got a notice to appear for jury duty two weeks ago and I thought for sure Lorna could get me out of it. Needless to say, that didn’t pan out and when I walked in to the fucking courtroom, she was there, ma. She was there and she was looking right at me. 

It’s a huge deal if anyone on the jury knows either of the lawyers and I know she had to have lied about knowing who I was for me to even be on the list in the first place. I don’t even know what to think about that. I haven’t seen her in twenty two years, mom. Twenty two fucking years. 

It’s like everything I feel for her has just been simmering under the surface and I can ignore it pretty well if I don’t think about her too much or hear someone order a margarita or smell anything resembling coconut. 

But looking into her eyes today, ma...it was just like I boiled over on the inside and all I could do was hope that it wasn’t as obvious on the outside. 

And now I have to play it cool like I don’t know her because what else am I supposed to do? I mean, I could have said I recognized her and left I guess but…”

“No, you couldn’t Allie. I know you couldn’t.” Diane knows all too well how hard she had to work to recover from Piper leaving her. Though she never knew details of her daughter’s former occupation, she knew enough not to ask unless Alex offered information. And she didn’t. 

What Diane did know was that Alex was a mess when she returned to the states after she “quit” her international business. Alex attributed all of her angst and PTSD to Piper’s departure but Diane knew there was more to the story than what Alex had divulged. 

Alex had stayed with her for several months all those years ago, often waking suddenly in the middle of the night screaming. Other times, Diane would walk into a room to find her daughter’s face completely glazed over, her mind absent from her body. 

The older woman had learned quickly not to jar Alex out of that state. Instead, she would hum softly or pretend to answer a phone call in the other room to provide a small distraction that Alex could latch on to in order to return her mind to the here and now. 

She was weird about doors she couldn’t see through, never wanting to be first to walk through. It took years before she could do it without hesitating. 

Diane knew her daughter had given her heart to that beautiful blonde and she couldn’t blame her. Piper had won her over as well. As unconditional as her love and support was for Alex, Diane couldn’t help but notice the guilt that consumed her. And she couldn’t help but wonder what part Alex had played in the breakup. 

Now, hearing Alex’s turmoil over the unexpected run-in with her long lost lover, Diane knew it was tearing her daughter in two. She would never jeopardize Piper’s position by indicating a connection with her. 

“Can you talk to her?” Diane ventured delicately for more information. 

Alex is breathing normally now and ready to put her mind to work figuring out how she’s going to play this afternoon. “No I can’t. I’m not supposed to talk about the case details to anyone and I’m not supposed to have any contact with members of the prosecution or the defense.”

“What about after the case is over?” Mama steps again. 

“I haven’t gotten that far, mom. I’m seriously just trying not to puke looking at the turkey club that just got delivered to my room. These chips are calling to me, though.” Alex breaks open the kettle chips that sit next to her sandwich. 

If she wasn’t in mom mode before, Diane fully enters the role at the mention of her daughter’s lunch, “Allie, you need to eat something. And not just chips. How long do you have until you need to be back?”

Looking at her watch, Alex quickly does the math. “Just over an hour.”

“That’s plenty of time for your stomach to settle. Try to eat the sandwich ok, baby? Is there a pickle spear?”

“I am damn near fifty years old, ma.” Alex feigns irritation. “I can handle deciding what to eat. And yes, there’s a pickle spear.” She can’t help but smile into the phone. “Am I keeping you from your hairdo?”

Alex hears her shift in her seat and can just see her waving her arm back and forth, “Oh I’m processing for another ten minutes at least, baby. You’re not keeping me from anything. Now tell me...how did she look?”

* * *

Piper stood with the rest of the courtroom as the jury filed in after lunch. She counted seven faces through the door before her breath caught again at the eighth. Much to her disappointment, those green eyes were down and didn’t look up to meet hers as she made her way to her seat. 

She didn’t quite know what to make of the subtle avoidance but Piper had very little mental space to spare at the moment. She was preparing to take her stage and shine. Piper loved every moment in the courtroom. This was her theater. 

The work leading up to the trial was grueling and tedious. Every stone had to be upturned and the amount of paperwork and process was often mountainous. But here, when all that work was done and all that was left was the delivery? This was Piper’s bread and butter. 

Her studies in drama gave her just enough of a performance edge to really draw in her listeners. She was magic with juries. 

Her background in English served her well also as she was able to craft just the perfect phrasing and rhythm to almost hypnotize witnesses during her questioning. 

She loved it all but if she had to pick her favorite part of the court days, it was the opening and closing arguments. This was where she could have complete control over her message, pacing and flow. 

Even though openings and closings aren’t technically part of the evidence in the case and the jury is encouraged not to give them as much weight as the rest of the proceedings, everyone knows that’s not how it actually happens. 

These arguments are the first and last pieces of information the jury hears, impressions they receive, and opportunities to build and deepen rapport. And Piper shamelessly capitalizes on this reality every time. 

She’s “met” the jury during the selection process but she is set now to level up her game and take them along on the story she will tell of a young man’s descent into the world of drug conspiracy and distribution. 

She will show them, beyond a reasonable doubt, that he’s guilty of all charges and deserving of the strongest possible punishment - not for the sake of making a point or making an example. But for the maintenance of justice and upholding what it means to live in a just and free state. For the protection of families and children and our very way of life. 

She will climb the heights of principle just enough to tug on heartstrings but stay solidly in the realm of facts and figures to stay connected with the data-driven as well. 

She has all night to think about what Alex Vause is thinking. And she likely will. Right now, she has a job to do and she’s more than ready to get it done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know..I know..I know..we need the ladies to have a minute together but we need to find our patience. It will come! This is Vauseman end game through and through. 
> 
> I recently served on a Federal jury in real life so this story is both inspired by that experience and pretty true to the structure and process of the real deal. The requirements of the jurors being silent about the case to each other and to anyone else during deliberation is legit. No research, news articles, or any details other than what’s presented in the courtroom are allowed in the mix. It’s pretty intense!


	6. Already Half In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, I really like the way this chapter turned out! Imagining the differences between these women as accomplished adults and their younger selves in the flashbacks is really fun. 
> 
> Thanks for reading :)

The air in the courtroom is heavy as Piper wraps up her opening statements. Alex is in a mild state of awe mixed with a touch of reverence. And of course, that familiar burning low in her belly underpins the whole afternoon. 

She has just watched her former lover captivate every person sitting in this box. There is not one of the jurors who wasn’t riveted by her every word. Alex gets the gist of the case - the defendant is charged with two counts: distribution of heroin and conspiracy to distribute in excess of 1 kilogram of heroin. 

Knowing what she does about this business, Alex raises her brows inadvertently at the mention of the kilo. Piper’s team (which is essentially the United States of America) is trying to pin a significant charge on this kid. 

The difference in how much time he would get if he’s convicted of the kilo quantity is significantly longer than what he would get if it were below a kilo - like double. Worst case scenario...this guy goes to prison for 20 years. 

In the opening arguments, Piper mentions that the jury will see a video of the defendant conducting a transaction with a buyer in which he sells half a gram to a confidential informant who is working with the DEA. So the first charge of distribution is pretty much a non-starter. It’s hard to combat or deny legally obtained surveillance video. 

The conspiracy charge will be a bit harder to prove - especially the amount. Alex is eager to see how Piper plans to remove the presence of reasonable doubt on that count. She finds herself drawn in almost immediately to Piper’s ability to tell the story of the defendant’s business plan, how his distribution channels work and the ramifications of how effective that distribution is. 

If what she says is true, this guy is responsible for a lot of heroin making its way through the streets and veins of the city. Alex wonders at the irony of the situation in which she finds herself. 

Even though her involvement was in a different section of the supply chain, the kid sitting across from her at the defense table could so easily have been her twenty five years ago. She could have been caught any time in the several years before she even met Piper, at any point during their two year relationship or the year after the breakup in which Alex woke up to the fact that she needed to get out. 

She spent the rest of the afternoon trying to stay engaged with the presentation of the evidence as Piper’s team called witnesses from law enforcement and the DEA and the defense attorney cross-examined each of them. 

Often though, she found her mind wading through a muddy mix of humility and somber realization. Her life as she now knows it is really the result of a few lucky breaks and her willingness to do the unthinkable in order to escape the dark underworld of drugs. 

Her eyes had met Pipers hundreds of times over the course of that first afternoon and even though the initial shock of seeing each other had dulled, Alex still gasped on the inside every time those deep blue eyes locked with hers. 

* * *

After what seemed like only a few minutes, the judge took charge of the room to indicate that it was time to recess for the day. Reminding the jury of their duties to refrain from discussion of the case, he dismissed them with instructions to be back at 9am the following day. 

PIper stood with her team as the jury was released and tried to catch Alex’s eye as she walked past. She turned at the last second but her face gave nothing but a blank slate. 

No smile, no smirk or even the raise of those eyebrows that could speak a thousand silent words. Piper was unprepared for how stoic that stunning face could be. 

She had never seen Alex look at her with anything but admiration or endearment. Maybe even amusement at times or annoyance but always an emotion. Her face was always expressive and communicative. So this...this nothingness? It was messing with Piper’s head. 

She began to gather her files and prepared to head back to her office as Polly read the concern on her face and put her hand on Piper’s arm. “Piper, you were incredible today. You set us up to knock this out of the park tomorrow. Why the long face?”

Piper smiled gently at her assistant. “You know how I get in the zone, Pol. I’m just spent and need to go home to a quiet house and a few glasses of wine. We are perfectly set up for tomorrow, you’re right. I’m just going to take these files up to the office and head home to decompress.

“Here,” Polly says, reaching for the files. “Let me take them up and you just head out. Take the opportunity to have a full evening at home. I got this.”

Hesitant but convinced, Piper offloads the stack of papers to her faithful aide and grabs her handbag. She knows Polly will make sure the details get worked out and they’ll regroup first thing in the morning. 

On her way down the elevator, she types out a quick text to Trevor. She had said they might get dinner tonight but Piper’s head is nowhere near prepared for that at the moment. 

Piper: Hey there. Court was draining. This case is big and will definitely be all-consuming for the duration. I need to focus on it completely so I will touch base with you again when I come up for air. Thanks for understanding.

Before the elevator doors open to the parking garage, her phone buzzes with his response.

Trevor: Ok. Is everything alright?

She hesitates, knowing the full answer is honestly ‘No, Trevor. Everything is not alright. The woman I have always loved has blindly crashed into my life again with no warning and I can’t ignore it. Even if nothing ever happens, the way I feel about her makes what you and I are doing seem shallow and unfair to you. I can’t pretend I’m available to be with someone else when every fiber of my being is buzzing with the thought of possibly connecting with her again.”

Her fingers type an equally honest, albeit incomplete response.

Piper: My mind is full and we should talk but I can’t until I get through the next few days. I know that’s not ideal but it’s what I need. 

Trevor: I don’t like that but I understand. Call me when you can. 

Piper sighs. She has been seeing Trevor for three months. This won’t exactly be a huge breakup but that’s never a conversation she looks forward to - especially when it’s essentially “Compared to her, you’re not even in the same league.” For now, she mentally sidelines the topic and puts her energies into the drive home. 

Upon arriving, Piper orders in from her favorite thai place, cracks open a bottle of her favorite cabernet and digs her laptop out of her bag on the way to the kitchen table. She has work to do. 

She opens a new secure search and types with unnecessary speed: “Alex Vause”. 

She’s looking for anything and everything. Unsurprising to the blonde, she finds no social media presence on any of the major platforms. She does, however, see several headshots come up in an image search that point to what appears to be Alex’s company. 

Piper recognizes the name of the Real Estate firm but had no idea Alex worked there. It doesn’t take long for her to discover that Alex doesn’t just work there - she is the founder and President of the firm - established eighteen years prior. 

This company is wildly successful, which comes as no surprise to Piper. Whatever Alex put her hand to would have taken off. What Piper doesn’t quite understand is how her ex had gotten out of the cartel and in a position to be so public about her life now, given the anonymity with which she was forced to live under her former employer. 

Piper does some quick math and follows a hunch, searching for anything related to drug busts in the two years following her departure from Alex’s life. Based on their travels together, she knew Alex’s territory covered much of eastern Europe and Southeast Asia so she includes these parameters in her searching. 

Stopping briefly to get the door and tip the thai delivery guy, Piper suddenly realizes she hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast. The smell of her Pad Thai elicits an obnoxious rumbling in her stomach. She barely gets it out of the paper bag before she’s devouring it like a starved animal. 

Piper’s day job comes in handy as she speedily skims through dozens of headlines and articles. Her eyes slow as she finds vague records of a warehouse explosion in Southern Malaysia just over a year after she left Alex in Paris. 

“This could be something,” Piper mutters to herself as she refills her wine glass and shovels another bite from her noodle box. 

“Unknown number or identity of casualties but the explosion led to a massive bust of a main transport line of heroin into the European and Asia-Pacific markets...Hundreds of kilos of product seized and incendiary captures of dozens of cartel members and mules resulted from the fallout of the explosion….”

Her international clearance is granted on a case by case basis and none of her current cases involve international trafficking. This means she can’t see too deeply into the arrest records associated with this particular bust but the fact that Alex was summoned for the jury in the first place indicates that she has no criminal record. 

“However her involvement with the cartel ended, she wasn’t caught or named in the fallout…” Piper is talking aloud through her thoughts to no one in particular. “Lucky bitch.”

This was now twenty one years ago and well beyond the statute of limitation for drug trafficking and conspiracy charges in almost every state. 

Piper closes her laptop and leans back against her chair, pulling her knees up to her chest before taking another bite of her dinner. “I’ll be damned. She got out.”

* * *

_“Prague! Baby, are you kidding?!” She knows I have always wanted to go and now she just casually drops the trip of my dreams on me over street Gyros in the park adjacent to her [our] apartment._

_I wrap my free arm around her waist and kiss her, not even caring that her mouth is currently full and she is unable to move without getting taziki all over the both of us._

_Alex speaks around her bite awkwardly and raises her eyebrow at me sideways, “Oh...you want to come, do you?”_

_I don’t even react to her sarcasm because I am already planning our itinerary, carried away in the amazingness that is my life with this dreamboat of a woman who turned my boring and predictable world upside down nine months ago._

_“The Astronomical Clock is a non-negotiable. I’ve read it’s an amazing experience. And we have to tour the Jewish Quarter. Al...can we do a river cruise? How brilliant would it be to see the city from that vantage point - especially at night?!!” I know my voice is squeaking with the excitement of a school girl but I don’t even care._

_She is looking at me with the whipped eyes I have come to learn mean, ‘If it keeps you in this happy mood, I will move heaven and earth.’_

_I squeal and kiss her again - this time with a bit more situational awareness. “I can’t wait to get home and say ‘thank you’ properly.”_

_I have never seen someone finish half a Gyro so fast. She takes my hand and strides purposefully back toward her building and I can’t stop giggling beside her._

_We stumble into the elevator and she barely has time to press ‘P’ before I’m wrapped around her like stripes on a tiger. We are insatiable, making out like teenagers as the elevator climbs to the top floor uninterrupted._

_I’m vaguely aware of a trail of clothing being left on the floor as we move from the front door and down the hall to the master. By the time we land on her four poster king bed, we are both completely naked and horny as hell._

_“How do you feel about toys tonight?” She breathes into my neck as her hands find their way from my face to my chest._

_I tilt my face back, baring the length of my throat and neck to her brilliant mouth. “Baby, I’m the one who is supposed to be thanking you.”_

_She bites down on my collarbone, evoking a shriek from my lips before calming the tender spot with her tongue and lips. “It’s not even 8pm, PIpes. I plan to be on the receiving end of your gratitude several times before I’m through with you.”_

_I groan at her words, “Yes to toys.”_

_She has opened a whole new world to me when it comes to sexual satisfaction. I’m not sure if it’s her technique or if it’s just her. Not that I really care to split hairs. All I really know is I never knew sex could be this amazing...this addicting._

_Alex Vause could ask to fuck me in the middle of Grand Central Station and I would say yes just to see how she would pull it off without getting us both arrested. She is like a drug to me and I can barely go a day without her._

_Leaving me pouting on the bed, she at least makes a show of her naked ass sauntering to the top drawer of her dresser where she keeps her bag of dirty and delightful tricks. I wonder if she will choose something new or opt for a repeat offender. When she turns slowly with a smirk on her face and a harness in her hand, I feel my face instantly flush and my eyes burn._

_We’ve never used a strap on but there’s not a bone in my body that’s opposed to the idea. “Is this ok?” She asks before moving toward me._

_I nod my head in anticipation but say nothing._

_The only thing that surpasses her adventurous streak in the bedroom (and a lot of other places, honestly) is her consideration of my total comfort with her treatment of me. “Are you sure? I know it’s new for us.”_

_I look from the sizable toy in her hands to her face and tell her honestly, “I’m sure, Al. Put it on.”_

_She lets out a throaty chuckle and when she speaks again, her voice is so deep it causes my breath to catch in my throat, “Yes ma’am.”_

_She bends to step into the harness there in front of her dresser. She takes great pleasure in how intently I’m watching this process, moving much slower than I feel is necessary and making me wait._

_I press my legs together in a futile attempt to ease the raging between my thighs. “Patience, baby. I can see how much you want me.”_

_It’s not even dirty but when she speaks to me in that voice everything inside me rolls and flips in ecstasy. I slide back further on the bed and lower my shoulders to the mattress. “No no, baby.” Alex begins her slow walk toward the bed while making a circle in the air with her pointed finger. “On your knees, pelase.”_

_My eyes roll back in my head as she directs me to what she knows is my favorite position with her. The thought of her taking me this way with a strap-on is almost enough to make me come before she even touches me._

_Even as I turn, I can’t take my eyes off of her naked body with the foreign addition that she seems to brandish effortlessly. I mentally question if there is a look she could sport that wouldn’t make me instantly wet._

_I take my position in the center of the bed and feel the mattress dip as she moves behind me, sitting back on her heels with her knees on either side of mine. She pulls my ass into her stomach and reaches for my chest with both hands. I raise up onto my knees and press my back into her breasts as she covers my shoulder blades with kisses._

_The dildo moves lazily between my thighs, well below its ultimate destination due to my current higher position. I place my hands over hers and moan in revelry at her treatment of my chest under and between her talented fingers._

_I move my hands down her forearms and along her thighs down to her knees, dragging the backs of my nails slowly. The hiss that escapes her lips brings a smug smile to my face. I love that I can bring these beautiful sounds out of her mouth._

_She snakes her right hand from under my arm and between our bodies, ghosts over my ass cheek and stops just shy of my radiating center. “If I would have known you’d literally be dripping at the thought of this, I would have brought this gem out months ago.” She growls into my back as she moves her hand from my chest to between my shoulder blades._

_I moan at her words again as she forcefully pushes me forward onto all fours. The forward motion causes her right hand to connect directly with the length of my pussy, her middle and ring fingers folding seamlessly around my clit and causing my voice to shake as I beg her, “Please, Al. Touch me.”_

_She moves her knees between mine and I feel her drag the head of the dildo gently through the length of my folds as she tantalizes my clit, coating it with what is an extravagant level of my readiness._

_She moves agonizingly slow and the anticipation is causing my arms to shake under me. She pauses briefly when she feels aligned with me as if to give me yet another opportunity to change my mind._

_Unable to wait a second longer, I push back against the large head and groan as the full length of the toy stretches and fills me. “Damn, Piper...you want this bad, don’t you…”_

_She interprets my eagerness as an indication that I’m not apprehensive and also far beyond my ability to be patient and establishes a strong, fast rhythm against me. Taking my hips in her hands, she drives deeply into me, listening carefully for any indication that it’s too much._

_It’s almost too much, but I adjust quickly to her size and can’t help but marvel at how good she feels inside me. She’s steady and relentless - totally different from what it would be like with a man._

_There’s no underlying panic that it will be over before I’m ready and will be left unsatisfied. She moves at different angles every few thrusts and connects with every surface inside of me._

_I hear her begin to moan as she comes close herself, the knob on her side of the harness clearly doing it’s job against her clit as she incorporates a circular movement to her pattern._

_Moving her right hand back to my clit, she takes the lobe of my ear between her teeth and sucks it hard as she assaults my sensitive nerves. I find her hair with one hand and her ass with the other as she pants in my ear, “Come with me, Pipes.”_

_I was already seeing stars as she made her final demand and I felt my body shudder violently against her. She clings to me from behind; her fingernails dig shamelessly into my skin as she grunts unintelligibly into my back._

_We jolt against each other, our grip on each other’s bodies refusing to weaken until we had exhausted ourselves in pleasure. When my arms finally go weak and fall, she keeps her hold on me strong so I won’t collapse straight onto the mattress._

_She lowers me gently forward andshe keeps my hips flush against hers for another few seconds until she feels my breathing slow. She moves backward slowly; my body quivers as she pulls out. She lays me gently over on my side and I hear her moving quickly to remove the harness before tucking in behind me as the big spoon._

* * *

Piper stands from the table and discards the half eaten box of noodles as she heads for her bedroom. She spends the remainder of her evening with a favorite from her top drawer, reliving the rest of that night’s “Thank yous” and “You’re welcomes” until exhaustion and satisfaction lull her to sleep. 


	7. Even Without You I Shine

Alex is mentally drained after the first full day of court. The judge had said to expect the trial to last three days, including the first day with jury selection. Obviously, it’s not like they can foresee these things exactly but Alex also thought they should have a reasonable idea. This is what they do every day, after all. 

She lets out a long sigh, grateful that she only has one more day of this intensity. She’s somber as she walks back to her hotel room. Even aside from the whole Piper situation, this experience is a lot more stressful than she would have guessed. 

The prosecution called a total of thirteen witnesses today. The head of the local police investigation was first, followed by seven different confidential informants. More accurately, addicts who are hoping to garner some grace on their associated charges by cooperating with the police force’s efforts to catch bad guys in the act. 

Each of the seven were in various stages of self-destruction from their drug use. Each were asked how long it had been since they used heroin. Alex was shocked at their honesty and candor, thinking they really must not have much to lose. 

The most confronting was a woman who was either in active withdrawal or just had a serious amount of brain damage from the amount of drugs she had consumed. She had no control over her limbs. She could walk but barely. When she sat down at the witness bench, her legs kept banging into the walls under the table. 

Four of the witnesses Piper called were actually in Federal custody. Two U.S. Marshals were stationed in the courtroom at all times and now it was even more clear why. The prisoners were in full stripes or orange, depending on which facility they were being held. They were cuffed to a belt and shuffled to the witness bench in ankle cuffs as well. 

The last witness was the DEA head of the case who had been present in the courtroom for the entirety of the proceedings. Piper’s questions to her were aimed mostly to highlight the magnitude of the heroin problem and the need to remove players at the defendant’s level in order to really make an impact. 

Watching all this made Alex’s head spin. As intense as the presence of the witnesses was for everyone in the room, the brunette had an additional factor pushing on her nerves. She can hardly wrap her brain around how different this Piper is from the one she knew all those years ago. And also...how much she is the same. 

Alex remembers the time she took Piper to see Les Miserables on Broadway. It was the blonde’s request after Alex had presented her with a stack of Playbills over dinner and said, “Pick one”.

They had seen the matinee show, planning to meander through Times Square and make it to their reservation at an exclusive new restaurant for dinner that night. Coming up on a fairly large bookstore, Piper just couldn’t walk past and tugged Alex through the door. 

They hadn’t been in the store two minutes when a very young, very oblivious employee approached Piper hoping to help - and likely hoping for a phone number. Alex had been caught up in a title from the end cap near where Piper was eating this boy for lunch. She couldn’t help but watch the unsuspecting lad crumble.

Piper had shut down his flirtatious advance with a clear reference to War and Peace. He knew nothing of the title and couldn’t tell her the name of the author when she asked. She demanded to see the manager and Alex had barely gotten her out of the store before she was calling for the poor kid’s minimum wage job on account of his literary incompetence. 

The young and unrefined passion that loose canon of a girl had displayed was a lifetime away from the calculated and brilliant dissection she was performing before Alex today. 

The passion and fire could still be felt in the room but it was precisely targeted. It was carefully curated from hours of study and research into the witnesses she questioned. It was directed with such accuracy and unflappable poise - Alex had to shift in her chair multiple times throughout the day in sheer awe of her presence. 

Pipes had grown up. And she was a force. No longer was she the love-sick tagalong to someone else’s agenda. No longer was she content to ride the waves behind someone else’s ship. She was her own ship now. And what a beautiful vessel she was. 

* * *

The prosecutor rested her case just before the end of the day. The defense will have an opportunity to call witnesses tomorrow but she doesn’t think that will take long. The burden of proof was on her - and she’s happy with the case she made. 

The end of the trial is close and then the jury will deliberate. She doesn’t expect deliberation to take a full day but you really never know. The problem now is, she can’t talk to anyone. No one. 

She would call Cal - as he is literally the only other person Piper knows who knows of Alex’s existence or connection to her - but she can’t. She can’t discuss the trial or the jurors or anything until it’s over without risk of completely derailing her case. As if she hasn’t already risked that in a huge way, but still. 

So she sits in her office and stews. She's in the zone in the courtroom. It’s her lane. Her happy place. It’s where she feels powerful and in control and important. But once she leaves the context of that room, her confident facade cracks in short order. 

She is becoming increasingly more consumed - even obsessed - with what Alex is thinking, where she is, what she’s doing, if she’s thinking about her. Of course she’s thinking about her. How could Alex not be thinking about her? 

This is the first time Piper has let herself go there - “Is she still angry with me?”, “How did she get out?”, “Would she talk to me?”. 

It’s pretty standard practice for the legal staff involved in these cases to contact jurors after the case is over to discuss their experiences and their decision if the jurors are willing. Would Alex be willing? Piper couldn’t care less about discussing the case but would she even speak to her? The lawyer knew she would have access to the phone number on file for each of the jurors as soon as the case closed. Would Alex even take her call? 

* * *

The next morning, Alex opts to visit the corner coffee shop for breakfast in lieu of the room service she had chosen each of the last two days. Just before reaching the door of the shop, she hears her name called cheerfully from behind her. 

“Hey! Are you staying at the Williamsburg, too?!” Alex reminds herself that she needs to play nice with others as she conjures a smile as she silently bemoans this being far too early an hour to make small talk with people she doesn’t care about. 

Shauna is juror number 9. Even though Alex has spent the majority of her time away from the courtroom at her suite, she hasn’t been able to fully avoid some engagement with the other members of the jury. 

“Sure am!” Alex slows as Shauna falls in step with her for the last few steps to the cafe. “It’s been really handy to stay here for the trial. I am REALLY hoping we are finished this afternoon though, because I can’t WAIT to get back to my man, if you know what I mean!” The much younger woman winks at Alex and thankfully doesn’t actually expect a literal response. 

“Well hey...yeah,” Alex playfully returns, “Getcha some, girl.” Alex winced internally at the sound of her own voice but it seemed like the right thing to say to move on from the topic - and the conversation in general - as soon as possible. 

Entering the cafe, Shauna stiffens almost immediately, turning around to face Alex and hide her own face. “Oh my God! Isn’t that the Prosecutor? The blonde waiting at the end of the counter for her drink. Wearing the...”

“Yeah I got it, Shauna.” Alex cuts her off, annoyed. Sure as shit, there she was waiting for her (if Alex were to take a guess) double shot vanilla latte with a dash of cinnamon, completely unaware of the Alex's entry and observation. 

It’s Alex’s turn to let her presence be a surprise and she is relishing it more than she expected she might. Fucking Shauna, though. Alex knows her options are limited if she wants their connection to remain under wraps. 

“We should go. We should go right now before she sees us.” Shauna is panicking. 

Alex talks to Shauna but continues looking at Piper, unwilling to let the moment she is noticed happen without her knowledge and eye contact. “She can see us, Shauna. She just can’t talk to us. She’s a person getting a coffee. Get yourself together and at least smile at the woman if she notices you. Don’t be an oaf.”

Satisfied with her priming, Alex watches Piper collect her drink and what appears to be a chocolate croissant. An unexpected but tasty addition, Alex observes. 

As Piper’s eyes move toward the exit, she stops in realization and her face falls for the briefest of seconds in shock. Alex has strategically taken a small step backward from Shauna so the young woman cannot see her expression. 

Alex sets her eyes like fire into Piper, looking past her beautiful exterior and connecting on what she hopes to be a deeper, more transparent level. There is no flirting or smolder in the stare. It’s meant to be piercing and ambiguous. 

Alex wants her to know that she sees her and that even if no one else can know it - she knows her. She isn’t the same as every other person in that box. “I know that you know that I know you.” That’s what she wants to say to Piper with her eyes.

Given the stutter steps and the awkward glancing toward Shauna as she approaches the door to leave, Alex thinks her message has been received. 

“Here, let me get that for you,” the juror pushes the door open for the lawyer, positioning herself so their bodies brush dangerously close to each other in the passing. 

“Thank you,” is all Piper can manage as she tears her eyes away from the piercing green force Alex is mercilessly laying on her. 

“Well that was a close one! Geez, I feel so nervous. She is like...big time!” Shauna sighs in relief now that the danger of ‘breaking the rules’ has passed. 

“I know, right?” Alex offers a haphazard acquiesce. Suddenly, the caffeine is merely incendiary. Alex is more than awake now and buzzing with an energy coffee can’t compete against. 

* * *

The defense calls only one witness before resting. The defendant chooses not to testify, which doesn’t actually indicate anything. Pleading the fifth doesn’t mean guilt or innocence but still, Alex wonders what it would be like to just sit there and offer no defense for yourself when you’re up against the possibility of that much time. 

Because of the brevity of the defense’s portion of the trial, closing arguments are up less than an hour after the judge called the court to order. The back door of the courtroom opens quietly as several people enter. 

A few familiar faces from the NYPD Alex recognizes from prosecution’s witness list take seats in the back row of seats. An unfamiliar figure files in last, quickly sitting in the second to last row. He’s tall, good looking as far as men go. Clearly not a cop but carries himself confidently among them, nonetheless. He’s wearing a fairly bold houndstooth suit, which catches Alex off guard but she has to admire his style choice. Piper stands for her final comments and approaches the jury. 

Alex can’t help but think again how good she is at this. She expertly recaps the high points of her case, drawing the evidence to a clear conclusion for the prosecution. She makes eye contact with every member of the jury, importing them to consider their responsibility to justice. Alex hears a sniffle from the row in front of her. Fucking Shauna. What a softie. 

Though her eyes are intense with everyone, the only appropriate word for her contact with Alex is “searing”. Piper is using this opportunity to bore blue into green to its fullest - and Alex holds her gaze every time. 

As Piper wraps up her comments, she turns to make her way back to the bench and Alex notices a stutter in her step - just like this morning in the coffee shop - but Piper isn’t looking at her. She’s looking at the guy in the fancy suit. And he’s looking at her with such glowing pride in his eyes and admiration, it nearly turns Alex’s stomach. 

Her face flushes and though she can’t see Piper’s face anymore from this angle, she’s not sure she wants to. Alex is aware of the defense attorney presenting his close but she doesn’t hear much of it. She’s trying too hard to avert her eyes from Piper, refusing to look at her for the remainder of the closing arguments. 

The judge releases the jury to their deliberations and asks all in the room to stand for their departure. Alex doesn’t look for Piper’s eyes on the way out this time. She is preoccupied with confusion on why she cares so much about the guy in the back, the fact that this trial is winding down and with the questions that are becoming increasingly louder in her head around what, if anything, happens next. 

Deliberation takes approximately four hours. Everyone agrees on a guilty verdict but they’re having trouble coming together on the amount of heroin to include in the charge. Ultimately, they agree on the middle of the road, between 100g and 1 kilo. It’s a cop out as far as Alex is concerned but she’s willing to make the compromise. 

As the jury enters the courtroom for the final time, Alex scans the seating area first. Houndstooth is gone. She makes her way to her assigned seat one final time before finding Piper’s eyes with her own. Alex can’t read her expression but it’s decidedly different than the intensity those eyes carried before. 

The verdict is read and Alex observes the defense table. The relief over the verdict not carrying the full weight it could have is tempered by the reality that this guy is going to jail. Not for as long as the prosecution wanted but still for a decent amount of time. The sentencing won’t happen for a few months but Alex suspects it will be double digits. 

The judge thanks everyone for their dedicated participation in the proceedings and dismisses the jury one last time. Piper is engaged in a silent conversation with her Executive Assistant as the jury leaves. 

As the jury returns to their room, Wanda appears in the hall to brief them with several last instructions. At each seat in the room, there are copies of their Juror’s instructions and also a contact sheet for both the prosecution and defense attorneys in case they have any questions. 

She thanks them again for their service and asks them to fill out the survey on their experience as a federal juror. The judge actually comes into the jury room to shake each of their hands and personally thank them. Alex is surprised by that but appreciates the gesture.

Alex flips to the contact page at the back of her stack of papers and sees names and numbers for each office - prosecution and defense. She notices a number handwritten on her notes in handwriting she doesn’t recognize. She steals a sideways glance to the jurors’ papers on either side of her and notices their pages are absent the extra characters. 

She folds the paper quickly and shoves it in her bag. Exiting the building for what she hopes to be the final time, she makes her way across to her hotel. The room is booked through tonight and though she had initially thought about heading back to her place tonight, she’s reconsidering that plan now. 

She sits down at the hotel bar and orders a whiskey Old Fashioned and a shot of tequila. Stirring the drink absent-mindedly, she repeats the numbers from her notes in her head. She had memorized them immediately. Tipping back the shot, she winces at the familiar burn and pulls out her phone. 

Motioning to the bartender for another, she makes the call. 

  
  



	8. Take Me Back To The Start

The whole team is preparing to head down to the pub for a few well-earned drinks and a few hours of unwinding. Piper is filling Taysee and Cindy in on the final case paperwork that needs to be filed tomorrow before they depart. 

The one latitude Piper affords herself is a day off following her court days. It’s a nice coincidence when that day happens to land on a Friday but it means all the loose ends need to be clearly delegated and tied up in her absence. 

Polly notices her boss’ phone buzzing on the ledge behind her and quietly hands it to her. Essentially finished with her comments to her researchers, Piper looks at the readout on her phone as she confirms, “We’re good?” They both nod and begin thumbing through the stacks of forms they’ve just received. 

Not recognizing the number, Piper answers formally even though it’s her personal cell. “Hello, this is Piper Chapman.”

She reaches for the ledge of Polly’s desk to steady herself as the deep gravel she would recognize anywhere rumbled over the line. “Do you pick one from every jury to give your personal number to or is it just my lucky day?” 

The words are flirtatious but the tone is anything but. Polly notices the body language radiating off of her boss and straightens, concerned. Piper holds up a finger indicating she needs a minute and quickly crosses the corridor to her office. Her hands shake when she shuts the door behind her. 

“Alex. I’m...wow. Hi. I was not expecting this right now.” Piper hates how unsteady she sounds. 

She could have almost predicted the cutting sarcasm hurled in the brunette’s response. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is this a bad time? I could call back later, say in about twenty years? This is stupid...you know what? Forget it.”

Piper is just waiting for a breath on the line and quickly interrupts, “Alex, please. I’m sorry. I’m just finishing up at the courthouse and I’m a little scattered. Can we talk?”

Several seconds of silence tick by as Piper waits for a response. She can hear background noise on the line so she knows Alex is still there.

The caller takes a long sip of whiskey and muddled orange slices while she weighs up the situation in her head. She did not want to ‘talk’ over the phone but she wasn’t sure she was steady enough to see Piper in person either. She also knew that if this didn’t happen right now, it wasn’t happening at all. 

She sets the drink down on the bar, closes her eyes and exhales the words sharply, “The Williamsburg. Presidential Suite. Fifteen minutes.” She lowers the phone and hangs up.

Picking up her drink again, she thinks to herself, “Your move, Chapman.”

* * *

Piper opens her mouth to respond but the line goes dead before words have a chance to form on her lips. Looking at her phone screen just to confirm, she says aloud into her empty office, “I’ll be there.”

She takes a few moments to gather herself as she walks to her window and surveys the street below. The Williamsburg is directly across from her office. Her head shakes in silent amusement. _It’s like a damn movie._

She turns suddenly at a knock on her door. “Yes?”

Polly pokes her head in with concern over her face. “Is everything ok, Piper?”

Smiling softly but not trying very hard to mask the apprehension in her eyes, Piper responds sincerely, “I’ve had a personal matter come up and I’m not going to be able to join you guys tonight.”

“Anything I can do? You know all you have to do is ask.” Polly’s faithful default to make herself available to her boss is appreciated but unnecessary this time. 

“Thanks, Pol. Go have fun and we will regroup Monday morning. I'm thankful for my personal day tomorrow. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.” She smiles, reassuring at her assistant as she closes the door with a nod. 

Through the door, Piper can see Polly rally the troops and usher them out, no doubt explaining that Piper has been called away and the drinks are calling anyway. 

She turns her attention again to what lies before her. _What actually does lie before me?_ She wonders. What she has no ambiguity about though, is her need to wear something very different than what she is. She looks like a lawyer and she’s done with that hat for a few days. 

Thankful now for her habit of leaving half her wardrobe in her office, she sheds the formal pant suit and heels, opting for her favorite pair of jeans and a casual cashmere. She takes her hair down from the pin-up she’d held all day and gives the locks a good tussling before checking her reflection in the office window. 

She looks much more relaxed than she feels but tries to remain positive. She refrains from planning things to say. She plans everything she says and she doesn’t want to do that in this conversation. This needs to be real. 

She has rolled the dice big time on this opportunity and she’s not going to waste it being scripted. Transparent and genuine are her only options. 

Given the demeanor Alex presented on the phone a few minutes ago, Piper knows she will have her work cut out for her to remain calm and not react. In all honesty, Alex isn’t out of bounds with her skepticism or her short fuse. Piper has made bold moves and been unable to contextualize any of them until now. 

Precisely fourteen minutes after the phone call, Piper slides the keycard in the elevator and presses “P”. _Some things never change_ , she muses. 

She'd given her name at the front desk and said she was here for a meeting in the Presidential Suite. The smiling concierge checked his screen, handed her a keycard and said, “Ms. Chapman, welcome. Ms. Vause is expecting you.” 

The elevator opens directly into the main area of the suite and Piper tentatively steps out, letting the door slide shut behind her. Her eyes move immediately to her visibly reluctant host leaning back against the kitchenette counter, arms folded across her chest in that familiar criss cross Piper had seen a million times. 

She smiles, venturing a few steps deeper into the room. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Alex returns flatly, offering Piper a glass and motioning to the sofa. “Would you like to sit down?”

The air is tense. Thick with unspoken answers to unasked questions. Piper can almost see the twisting of Alex’s nerves, despite her valiant attempts to mask her discomfort. 

Piper thanks her for the drink and nods. She sits on the edge of the couch and is immediately aware that Alex is still standing. “Are you going to sit?”

Shaking her head from side to side nervously, Alex is quickly losing her composure. “No, I’m good to stand - I’ve been sitting a lot the last three days.”

“Alex...I didn’t,” Piper begins but is immediately cut off. 

“I don’t know what you want from me or what kind of demented game this is you’re playing, Piper but it ends here. Is this how you get your kicks now? Is this how you feel big and powerful? Fucking holding the marionette strings - parading me through this dog and pony show?”

Alex paces back and forth in front of the couch, counting her steps and trying to calm herself. The profound role reversal is not lost on Piper. “How long?”

“Excuse me?”

Alex continues her line of questioning, “How long did you know? About me being on the list? 

Piper steadies herself and answers in as disarming a voice as she can come up with, “Monday night. I saw the list the night before jury selection.”

Alex stops pacing and puts her hands on her hips as she looks to the ground, muttering, “Un _fucking_ believable.”

Offering the start of a defense for herself, Piper continues, “It’s not like I put your name there, Alex. I don’t get to choose who gets summoned and who doesn’t. Don’t put this on me like I orchestrated some grandiose scheme to rope you back into my life after twenty years. This is my fucking job. Seriously.”

When Alex doesn’t have more to fire at her immediately, Piper continues, “I could have struck you from the list then and there. Not ‘could’ have…’SHOULD’ have. I put everything important to me on the line when I didn’t and I think you know that. But I couldn’t. I hesitated and justified and told myself you would never make it into the courtroom anyway, all the while hoping to God you would.”

Alex whips her head around to meet Piper’s eyes, clearly impacted by the unexpected honesty coming from her ex. She expected more layers of self-centric grandstanding and is caught off guard when all she encounters is a straight answer. 

“Would you rather me have crossed off your name? Seen it there screaming at me and just put a fat black line right through it and gone on with life never knowing what would have happened with that second chance? Would you rather have gone on with this week like every other week and never seen me?” Piper gives her an opportunity to return the olive branch of candor and respect.

She's still spooling up to this evolved version of Piper, the kid who’s sentence she used to be able to finish. She’s working off of a two decade old model and she’s beginning to second guess herself. She stalls. “Well that depends, doesn’t it?”

Piper isn’t impressed with the cryptic response and moves the conversation quickly to last name level. “Depends?! Depends on fucking what, Vause?”

Unphased by Piper’s shift toward a more aggressive stance, Alex is far too focused on not showing too much of her hand. “Houndstooth.”

“If this is some sick Sherlock Holmes riddle, I don’t have time…”

Alex cuts her off, patience with the angst of this conversation waning. “Henry fucking Houndstooth from the courtroom. Second to last row. I’m sure you remember the one. Tall, dark and handsome? I saw the way he looked at you - the way you looked at him. Who is he to you?”

Alex was grasping at straws now, desperate to form some sort of grid in which to operate. She swings frantically toward the buttons she thinks might get a reaction from the blonde. She just needs more information so she can posture herself safely. This is shaky ground. 

Piper is thrown completely backward by this turn in the conversation. _Is Alex jealous? Is she threatened?_ Piper has never known her to give a second thought to any obstacle in her way to a woman she wants. Then again, maybe Piper is being presumptuous that she is wanted at all. 

She splits her attention between interpreting Alex’s sudden interest in her romantic attachments and actually answering the question. She stumbles awkwardly though the response. “Trevor. The guy I’m dating. Was dating. He’s the guy I was dating.”

“Well which is it, Chapman? Is or was?” Alex can play the last name game, too. 

Piper looks directly into Alex’s eyes. She is well past cloaking the truth. “Was.” 

Still unsatisfied, Alex probes, “Since when?”

Piper sits back on the sofa and takes a drink of what she is now realizing is a screwdriver. It wouldn’t be her first choice but it’s not like Alex has access to a full bar in here. “Since I walked out of court after closing and told him I wasn’t interested in furthering our relationship. We’ve only been seeing each other for three months. He wants more and I want…”

The confident prosecutor falters. Alex raises her eyebrows and leans back against the counter again, waiting as she watches Piper trail off her sentence, suddenly absorbed in the pattern on the carpet in front of her. 

Piper throws caution to the wind and kicks open the floodgates holding two decades of heartbreak. “Jesus, Alex. YOU. I want you. I’ve always wanted you. I’ve never fucking stopped wanting you. I wanted you then and I couldn’t have you. I couldn’t trust you. You weren’t safe for me anymore. Hell, maybe you never were but you felt like home and I nearly died without you. I tried to hate you. 

I tried so fucking hard to hate you but it never stuck. I couldn’t do it. I worried about you. You could have been dead in a goddamn gutter in Thailand, for all I knew.”

She stands from the sofa and begins her own pacing, breaking her gaze from Alex every few thoughts and waving her hands emphatically as she let it all out.

“I tried to distract myself and make something of myself and clearly - I haven’t done half bad at that. I’m proud of my work and what I do but I can’t help thinking I wouldn’t even be doing this if it weren’t for you. If it weren’t for the fact that this fucking drug stole you from me and left a hole that has never been filled. 

You’re everywhere, Alex - even when you were nowhere to me. Eventually, I was able to go a whole day without thinking about you and I felt like I deserved a damn trophy. Then I could make it two days and then even a whole week.”

The intensity and volume of her voice escalates steadily. Alex is riveted to her every word and is also glad she has the whole floor.

“I got to the point where I could live most of the moments without you there in my head. But the big moments, Al...the life moments. The one when I got my acceptance letter to law school. The one when I bought my house. The one when my grandma died. The one when I held Cal and Neri’s son for the first time. The one when I was sworn in as a federal prosecutor...those were the moments I wanted to spend next to you, Alex. 

Waking up with you. Coming home to you. Going to bed with you. The big moments were supposed to be lived with you. 

Jesus, AL...EVERY MOMENT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE WITH YOU.”

Piper’s crescendo is one click short of shouting before she reels herself back in. Alex’s stomach is doing flips in her gut and she is struggling to believe the words filling the room. This is nowhere near how she foresaw this conversation going. A knot in the back of her throat threatens her breathing and she feels her eyes blur with heat and unfelt emotion.

“It was always supposed to be with you. And so yeah...when I saw your name on that list Monday night, I could have crossed it off. But that was the last fucking big moment I was willing to live without you. I had to take the chance to have this conversation we’re having right now.”

Piper stills the movement of her feet and takes that green-eyed gaze with hers, refusing to let go. She drops her hands to her sides - a physical statement that she’s laying everything on the table. 

“I’ve lived half my life trying to accept the fact that you aren’t in it. I never would have dreamed in a million years this would happen. And as hard as it was to put myself back together after losing you, I will do it again now if I have to but what I won’t do...what I won’t do, Alex, is pretend that I don’t know you for one more god-forsaken second. 

I won’t pretend that I didn’t want to see you...that I didn’t want to talk to you...that you aren’t important. I won’t pretend I don’t miss you. Not anymore. Fuck. I won’t pretend I don’t love you.”

The silence is deafening. Alex’s face is trailed with tears that just wouldn’t stay in her eyes, her face flush in the presence of such unguarded vulnerability. The two women stand facing each other, separated by half a room and what remains of half a lifetime of loneliness and unfulfilled longing. 

Piper has said all she has to say and waiting for a response feels like another half of a lifetime. 

Alex wipes her face with the back of her hands and sniffs in a futile attempt to compose herself. “So was that an opening argument or a closing one?”

It’s Piper’s turn to cry now. “You tell me.”

Closing the distance between them, Alex attempts to break the tension. “Do you always make the jurors cry?” She wraps the chuckling, exhausted, spent woman in a hug. 

Piper buries her face into the shoulder she has ached for all these years. It feels the same. Alex smells the same. “Apparently. Apparently, I do.”

  
  



	9. Kiss It Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and love on this story :) 
> 
> I’ve loved writing Piper as a grown up. The age of our ladies in this fic is purposeful. Often, I feel that our imaginations tend to want the young and vibrant versions of people but force onto them the wisdom and maturity that only comes with age. This particular writing is my little buck against that norm. 
> 
> Maybe it’s because I’m getting older myself and I refuse to believe there’s less opportunity for heat, passion, connection etc as the years tick on. If anything, there’s more. Bring it on, I say. 
> 
> I’m not shy about smut - this chapter is full of it so be warned :) I tend to burn the story slower and stay generous with the steam so we have a little pacification while we wait for these ladies to get their acts together. In this chapter, we'll hit a pretty sweet intersection of story and steam. I’m excited about it. Just don’t leave the browser open at work ;)
> 
> Let’s pick up where we left off, shall we?

Alex moves toward the leaking eyes searching hers. She is still assimilating the disconnect between her personal experiences and the conflicting realities before her. 

The voice coming from that beautiful mouth is familiar - Alex would know it anywhere. But the words that pour out of it are born from a place foreign to Alex. Piper’s ability to articulate exactly what she means, what she feels clearly and in relative calm...that’s a new fucking frontier and it leaves her in a state of nearly artistic appreciation. 

It’s like listening to a piece of intricate orchestration. Alex marvels at the discipline and practice required to create such clarity. She sounds the same, but she communicates on a different level. 

To see her across a crowd, Piper looks very much the same to Alex as she always did. Age has added lines around her eyes that are new to her but those baby blues shine with the same kindness and zest for life that makes Alex happy just to look into them. 

She carries a little more weight on her frame but is still fit and displaying those familiar angles in her face and jaw. Her blonde hair is forgiving of the grays that have begun to speckle her hairline, unlike Alex’s darker locks that demand frequent visits to the salon to cover her own silvering head. Piper looks the same but she carries herself differently. Stronger. Taller. Braver. She’s confident in who she is and she’s courageous enough to put it out there. 

If there's one word Alex would use now to describe what Piper just did - hell, what she has been doing all week - that would be it. _Courageous_. 

As it pertains to Alex, this whole week has been Piper making one ballsy choice after another. And it’s led her right to this moment, right to this room, face to face with the real life version of the raven-haired beauty living in the quiet corners of her mind for decades. 

All these nuances of familiar and foreign fade into a low hum when Alex reaches Piper. Her breath hitches and every ounce of her resistance crumbles when she takes Piper in her arms. 

Every jagged edge of filler hearts is forgotten. 

Every not-quite-right night sheds away like an ill-fitting skin. 

Every other card on the mental rolodex disintegrating into ash.

Every morning of eyes opened to emptiness across the mattress fades like the memory of a turned page.

In a flash, twenty years of  _ apart _ is erased when the missing, cried-over, achingly absent, perfectly fitting pieces of each heart crash together in a healing embrace they never saw coming. 

For the first time in a long time, they revel in the only other set of arms that felt right. On the inside, there's much to learn about each other. But on the outside, they still fit seamlessly - like they were designed for each other. 

Piper lets the tears fall freely while Alex silently sobs. Neither wanting to rush or speak or stain this moment of relief - of redemption. They cling to each other, unsure how they got here but unwilling to leave. 

They hold on for what seems like hours. They cry into each other’s hair and breathe into each other’s necks. Then suddenly, four arms simultaneously relax and their eyes meet again. 

Piper brings her hands to her own face and scans the room for a box of tissues. 

“Yeah.” Alex softly chuckles as they both attempt to recover from the heavy emotions of the past few minutes. 

Tension is still thick in the air, but it’s of a different sort now. It’s the ‘What now?’ sort. The ‘I want you and you want me but is that even ok?’ sort. 

Piper takes a long drink from the glass on the table, draining it before setting it down again. “Where’s the bathroom?” She asks quietly. 

Alex points through the open bedroom door and offers kindly, “Take all the time you need. Can I get you anything besides a refill?” She nods toward Piper’s empty glass and smiles. 

“Another would be great. I won’t be long.” Piper moves quickly into the bathroom and exhales long and slow against the closed door. 

It smells like Alex in here. Unless things in Alex’s hotel habits have drastically changed over the years, she wouldn’t have housekeeping in the room at all during her stay. The inevitable result is the whole place smelling like Alex. Her shampoo, her lotion, her perfume. To Piper, it just smells like home. It’s the most familiar scent in her life and it rushes her like a flood as soon as she steps into the bathroom. 

Taking a long look at herself in the mirror, she attempts to process her own emotions. She is fully aware of her own exhaustion at every level and trying to contextualize her current situation in light of that reality. 

Mentally, she is always frayed at the edges after court days. Physically, she’s been on her feet in heels for most of the previous three days and not sleeping a whole lot any of the previous three nights. Emotionally...well a cursory look in the mirror tells that story plainly enough. 

She feels empty and yet curiously full. Exhausted and relieved. Proud of her decision to do say the hard and vulnerable truth to Alex without backing down or caving into an emotional breakdown. And yet painfully aware that Alex hasn’t really said anything in response to her openness. 

She did what she did for her own sanity. She doesn’t  _ need  _ a response from Alex but she would be lying if she said she didn’t  _ want _ one. The hug was nice. Needed. Amazing. But as much as it communicated, it didn’t actually fix anything. 

At the same time, Piper was settled in the fact that she had moved toward Alex and said her piece. She had put it all on the table and now it was Alex’s turn to reciprocate, if she would. Piper doesn’t know if she’s attached, if she has kids...she knows nothing about her life anymore. She does want a response, though. Whatever that might look like. 

She fights her need to have a clear picture about what’s going on and looks at the reflection of herself in the eye, “One step at a time, Piper. Just take this one step at a time.”

When she opens the bathroom door, she doesn’t make it more than a step before running face first into Alex’s reciprocity. Hands on her cheeks, forehead touching another...Piper is nose to nose with that familiar face and her hands slip into auto pilot, taking the hips across from her and pulling them close. 

“There’s so much I want to say, Piper. So much I want to know. So much I want to learn about you. So much I want you to know about me.” Alex’s eyes are closed and her voice is soft but strong. 

“But I’ve been listening to you for three days and couldn’t respond. I’ve been looking at you for three days and couldn’t touch you. I feel like we have all the time in the world to talk and learn and smile and laugh. But I don't want to do any of those things right now.” 

Her tone shifts away from confidence as she takes a slow breath and summons her own courage, “I just...Is it...Can I…”

Piper pulls back from the contact between their faces to search the hesitant green eyes before her. She knows the end to every one of those sentences and chooses the only response that fits them all. 

“Yes.”

The combination of relief, elation, intensity and hunger boils violently through those green eyes as they instantly darken and close. The kiss is calm, courteous at first. Alex cradles Piper’s face as if she might break her, afraid that the reality of this moment might crumble to dust in her hands if she isn’t careful enough. 

Piper returns the kiss in unhurried appreciation, taking her time to feel every one of the familiar movements behind that beautiful smile. When she feels Alex's tongue brush across her bottom lip, Piper smiles as her lips part. 

“God, Alex” she manages between kisses, “you still have it.”

Only Alex Vause can smirk and kiss at the same time, “I hope that’s not the only thing you think I’ve still got.”

Her hands still carefully cupping the blondes face, Alex deepens the moment. Pouring every ounce of stock-piled passion and hunger she feels into Piper's mouth - Alex shoves all her chips to the center of the table. 

“I missed you,” Alex manages with a moan. “I missed you every goddamn day.” Her hands move quickly downward over purple cashmere, searching for the soft skin just above the edge of denim. She finds it just as delightfully soft as she remembers and the burning in her belly is rapidly overtaking every other thought. 

Piper’s fingers are already blazing their own trail up under the front of Alex’s shirt. She needs to feel everything. Every inch. Every moment missed. This isn’t about making up for lost time, it's about creating a baseline for something new. 

This is about rediscovery of bodies and pleasure. Though there isn't a place on this beautiful body she couldn’t map from memory, Piper explores it as though she’s never been. Swiftly removing shirt, bra, jeans and finally those fucking boy shorts that never fail to instantly prime her with slick anticipation.

Alex cadences in step with the purposeful removal of clothing, breaking their kisses long enough to get her lover naked and lowered to the king-sized canvas they are about to christen with strokes and swirls long overdue. 

Alex makes it her mission to elicit every desperate sound possible from the exposed throat before her. Sucking gently then leaving a bite as she grazes over every surface from Piper’s ears to her chest. 

She works those gorgeous breasts in her hands like clay on the wheel, alternating pinches and twists with a decidedly possessive energy that render Piper a moaning mess under her ministrations. 

“Alex...my God.” Appreciation. Approval. All the connotations that beg for more lace through the words slipping from the prosecutor’s panting mouth as she fills her hands with fistfuls of black tresses. She moves her knee upward, connecting her thigh with the wet heat gathering between Alex’s legs. 

Feeling the sudden contact, Alex instinctively bares down with her hips, covering Piper’s thigh with her arousal and releasing a gratuitous groan that bridges the gap between collarbone and breast. Her teeth closing over Piper’s already sensitive nipple cause her back to arch in response. She shrieks, tempering the cry to a hum as she feels a talented tongue gently sucking the pain into pleasure. 

Alex stays there with her mouth for several minutes, slowly sucking at Piper’s breast as though drawing life from it. Her hands move skillfully south, working over the softness around the blonde’s midsection like it's hidden treasure finally found. 

By the time her fingers find their way to the creases and folds at Piper’s core, the room fills with tearful pleading for the expert contact only Alex could deliver. “Touch me, Al. Please. Touch me again.”

Alex steadily grinds down over Piper’s thigh, bringing herself closer and closer to her own satisfaction. Between the textures and tremble of the nipple in her mouth and the knowledge that after all these years she could still soak the sheets in Piper, Alex's eyes were rolling back in her head as she relished every second on top of this woman. 

PIper takes Alex’s face in her hands and brings their lips together for a sloppy, frenzied kiss. “Together, baby. I want to come with you.”

Alex rises to face the woman beneath her as Piper’s hand snakes toward its destination at long last. At her touch, Alex falters and gasps. As their eyes lock, their fingers simultaneously sink into each other and tears fill both their eyes. They move together back and forth in a tumultuous rhythm, their fingers finding the deepest parts of each other’s bodies while their eyes seek the deepest part of each other’s souls. 

They don’t need words as they watch each other’s straining faces, hearing the stuttered breaths of the other choke out in glorious anticipation. When they come, it's an explosion of emotion and ecstasy. 

The power of it nearly crushes them as their hearts melt again from two into one. It's physically uncivilized, bodies writhing and spasming over each other as if electrocuted with fulfillment. 

The sound erupting from the tangle of skin and bones is primitive...almost savage. They are rewriting their own expectations and the death of what  _ was _ battles fiercely with the birth of what  _ was to be _ . It sounds like a war and feels like victory. 

They lay there entwined among each other, inside each other as long as it takes to breathe and calm and release. When they find each other's eyes again, the tears escape and they are reduced to sobbing once more. The intensity surrounding their reunion suddenly refusing to be contained in two separate bodies any longer rushes out to coexist, mingling tenderly on salty cheeks and lips. 

The first sounds in the wake of their recovery are contented sighs and the mewing that accompanies nuzzled noses in necks and hair. When words are finally possible again, Alex speaks first in a husky boast, “Yep. Still got it.”

Piper’s laugh bursts through her lips, “You or me?”

Rolling onto her back beside the blonde, Alex states simply, “Yeah.”

“Like riding a bike, they say,” Piper smiles. 

Alex narrows her eyes at her, “I don’t know what kind of bikes you’ve been riding, but none of mine have had anything on you.”

Piper wedges into the crook of Alex’s arm. “If you’re looking for an apology on that topic, you’re not getting one.”

“Fair.”

They both smile into the afterglow, silently enjoying the presence of the other. The quiet is disturbed several minutes later by a sudden growling escaping from Alex's stomach. Piper giggles and looks at the clock. 7:23pm.

“Guess it’s dinner time for you, Vause.”

Alex sits up in the bed and kisses her again with a wink, “Don’t go anywhere.”

She returns almost immediately with the refilled glasses from before. “I’ll order up. What are you hungry for?”

* * *

After dinner, Alex moves to the opposite end of the sofa, much to Piper’s confusion and momentary disappointment. Taking her left foot and beginning to massage the tired arch and heel, Alex very quickly relieves all the tension present there. 

“God, Alex.” Piper moans at the firm attention directed toward her aching feet. 

Alex smiles through the deep tones in her voice, “You said that already.”

Piper teases that she never has stopped acting like a teenage boy. They quiet themselves again just looking at each other. Alex knows she needs to do some filling in of the blanks for Piper despite her very clear non-verbal indications earlier that she wants to be part of Piper’s life. 

“This seems like a really awkward conversation to start, Pipes. I’m still not great with getting things out on my own.” Alex looks down almost sheepishly. “How about...you ask me anything you want to know and I promise to give you a straight answer.”

“Alright...are you single?” Piper thinks that’s probably not the most important but perhaps is the most pressing of the items on her mental list. 

“I am. I haven’t dated anyone seriously in years. I had a few girlfriends here and there but have stuck to fuck and run’s for the most part since I moved to out to Jersey. Much less complicated. That was just over three years ago.”

Piper rolls her eyes but can’t hide the amusement in them, “Classy, Vause.”

Holding up her hands in surrender, Alex shrugs, “Hey, I told you I’d give it to you straight.”

“How’s your mom?”

“She’s living her best fucking life in the retirment community she joined nine years ago. She runs the monthly poker night (which I’m no longer invited to because apparently I was ‘hustling’ people out of their social security checks)” Alex uses air quotes while trying to look innocent. “But they still let me play Bingo on Thursday afternoons so that's something. I bring oreros and cases of Fresca as preemptive peace offerings in case I win, as a precaution.

She’s doing really well. She's proud of me. And I’m fucking proud of her. We go to Mexico every Spring for two weeks and I take her to dinner often. She’s even DATING a guy there. He’s younger. She’s a cougar in her old age.” Alex beams when she talks about her mom. 

“Diane running game in the retirement home. The apple sure didn’t fall far there.” Piper’s shade is proudly accepted across the sofa. They smile at each other again and the air stills between them as Alex switches feet. 

“The explosion in Malaysia...that was you, wasn’t it?” This was the question that had been burning in Piper’s brain for three days. Alex stops rubbing her feet for a nearly indiscernible second before breathing out slowly. 

“Are you a mandatory reporter? Am I on the record?” It comes out in jest but there’s enough sincerity present in the question that Piper responds honestly. 

“Only for criminal activity carried out within the United States or it’s territories and only within the statute of limitation which, is well and truly passed for drug activity anyway.” Piper the prosecutor was dutifully answering. 

“Just drug activity?” Alex presses. At her core, she knows Piper isn’t asking for any other reason than her own understanding of how Alex’s career with the cartel ended. Still, she isn’t about to unknowingly put Piper in a position to have incriminating information on her. 

“My obligations end at the borders of this country, Alex. Whatever the crime.” Piper opens her arms in an invitation for Alex to come closer. She leans back against Piper’s chest and lays her head against a soft shoulder. 

“I knew I had to get out but there was no way I could and live to tell about it. I figured hiding out my whole life being paranoid every time I left my house wasn’t any better than being dead so that wasn’t an option either.

I had already lost you because of my job - I wasn’t willing to lose me, too. I couldn’t see that until you left. I’ve wanted to thank you for leaving me so many times over the last twenty years. You saved my life when you saved yours.

I would have gotten us both killed if you hadn’t done what you did. I hated you for it...and then I loved you even more for it. So I handled the situation. People died. I've had to do a lot of fucking work to learn how to live with that. 

I came home and lived with my mom for awhile. It was rough but she helped me through it. I still see a therapist monthly and...though I can’t go into super specific details with her, she has helped me with some really awesome strategies for managing my PTSD.”

Alex sighs and smiles into Piper’s neck.

“Now, you’re saying the only thing I’m “technically” guilty of is perjury. Ironic how you wouldn’t follow me into a felony, but you had no problem leading me into one. And they say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” Alex squeezes Piper's fingers between hers and turns to kiss her cheek. 

Piper scoffs in mock horror. “I’m not sure if I’m more offended that you called me old or that you called me a dog.”

Alex turns to face her on the couch, planting kisses along her jaw and ear lobes. “I’m kind of crazy about this old dog.” 

Piper’s theatrical offense melts into a suggestive smirk. “Wanna see my other tricks?”

  
  



	10. Tell Me No Lies

Piper woke in an unfamiliar bed under a strikingly familiar arm. She smiled as the events of the previous night unfurled from her memory like a sail filling with west wind.

She felt the slow and steady breath to whom the arm around her waist belonged cascading gently along the back of her neck. She didn't dare move, unwilling to break the spell of Alex's sweet sleep.

Recalling snippets of their evening conversation and activities, Piper couldn't help but feel sheltered in this room. It was a safe place. A greenhouse for the freshly burst seed peeking up through the soil in her heart.

She wasn't a naive twenty-something anymore - she knew this possibility of a second chance with Alex wouldn't be without it's challenges. But she also couldn't help hoping. She couldn't stop that warmth of something fresh from wrapping around her heart like a blanket.

She felt a set of lips break the breezy rhythm on her neck and nuzzled back further into the warm body behind her.

"Good morning, Beautiful." The tone of Alex's first words in the morning is impossibly deep.

She smiles. "Mmmmm. That's new. I like it."

Alex tightens her arm in response before adding, "It's true. It's always been true. But something new seems fitting."

Piper rolls over into the space under her lover's chin, "How long do you have this room?"

"How long do you want me to have this room?"

Piper grins into the pale skin of Alex's neck and speaks her next words over the ticklish spot under an ear she knows so well. "I just want to know if we need to be in a hurry to get out of this bed."

Not really waiting for a response, she quickly disappears under the cover of white linen, leaving trails with lips and fingertips down the length of Alex's body.

"God...Piper…" Words surface intermingled with moans and whimpers as the lightest touches possible feather her skin into flames. She is completely at Piper's mercy.

She moves her hands toward Piper's hair but is surprised when they come up empty. Opening her eyes, she meets a pair of smouldering blue flames staring back.

Shaking her head slightly, Piper instructs in no uncertain terms, "I'll tell you when you can touch me."

"Jesus. Fuck." Alex balls her hands into fists and slams them into the pillow behind her head. Her frustration is real but it's such a tantalizing problem.

Brushing her fingers faintly over the rise of Alex's chest, Piper calls the darkness of those stunning nipples to life. She's teasing. And it's working beautifully.

She opens her mouth over each of them but breath is the only sensation that reaches skin. Alex arches toward her, her body begging for more but Piper won't relent. She wants Alex undone and pleading out loud.

She continues her sweet torture, tracing belly, thighs and ass. Devilishly light and far too quick in her movements over the entirety of Alex's striking form. Goosebumps erupt over every surface - the skin's ultimate honesty showing itself as evidence of Piper's vexing success.

The sounds Alex is managing are full of desperation and fervor. Her legs grind together in a hopeless attempt to relieve the burning between them.

Piper raises up briefly from her position at Alex's feet and admires her handiwork. She curls her fingers behind the Alex's knees and pulls her several inches down the bed.

Kissing her way back up endless legs, she moves her own knees to her left beside the body beneath, stopping briefly over the quivering heat between Alex's thighs. She lets loose a low growl that drives blots of anticipation into every corner of Alex's being. It's quickly becoming more than she can handle.

"Piper...oh my...God, Piper."

Smiling, Piper kneels next to her lover. Her left hand moves swiftly over the junction between the sheet and Alex's ass causing her hips to lurch away from the ticklish touch. At the same time, her right hand brings Alex's knees up and rolls her on her side so they're facing each other.

Lifting Alex's left knee upward, Piper lays her head on the pillow provided by the Alex's right thigh and moves her lower half up toward Alex's head.

As if she knew it was coming, Alex lifts her face toward Piper's unfolding center. Her hands are still obediently still but it's taking every ounce of control she has.

"Alex," Piper rests her mouth a hair's breadth from what promises to be a drool-worthy breakfast.

The helpless, starving moan that escapes Alex's lips brings a sneaky smile to her face.

"Let's eat."

Furiously, ravenously, immediately Alex obliges. She takes no shortcuts in the feast before her. Alex is uncaged.

They each move with the other in mutual abandon, filling their mouths and hands with every available surface. It's not long before they sync with each othe, hips rolling freely toward eager kisses.

Alex claws shamelessly at Piper's exposed back, leaving pink trails in crosshatch. As if returning the sentiment, Piper sinks her nails into the fleshy rise of Alex's ass as she mercilessly sucks and nibbles at her clit.

Their pace increases quickly. Piper moans directly against the sensitive nerves under her tongue, initiating a domino effect that takes them both down violently.

The buck against each other, hips unhinged and conflicted - overwhelmed by the stimulation of climax but desperately wanting to prolong it as long as possible.

From which mouth comes which sound is indiscernible. Piper groans and pants against Alex's helpless hips, jolting under the effects of pleasure-wracked moans.

They twitch and jerk in a mangled mess of legs and limbs, drunk on the taste of each other and too spent to move.

Alex rolls to her back first, closely followed by her trembling partner. "I can't feel my legs," she breathes heavy still in the aftermath of Piper's wake up call.

"Yeah...give it a minute," Piper doesn't seem concerned.

Still on their backs opposite each other, Piper finds Alex's hand between them and interlaces their fingers together. They lay there calming down for several minutes before Alex speaks.

"I'm going to have a quick shower and find my toothbrush. Then I'm taking you to breakfast and we can decide what we want to do with our day."

In their previous evening conversations, Piper had told her she wasn't working today. So she made an executive decision to follow suit, firing off a quick text to Lorna letting her know she would see her Monday.

"Yeah about the toothbrush…" Piper sits up, looking concerned.

Alex plants a kiss on her forehead as she leans over her legs and grabs the phone. "I got it, babe."

The term of endearment catches Piper off guard even though she has used several for Alex in the throes of passion recently. It causes such a dizzy swell of deja vu in her head that she's glad she's still sitting.

"Hey Charles, will you please send up a toothbrush and an extra robe? Thanks." Turning to Piper, she winks. "Done."

"You are on a first name basis with the front desk?" Piper shouldn't be surprised but can't help but comment.

Eyebrow rising as Alex slides off the bed, she chuckles, "Oh yeah, Chuck and I go way back. Also, he said his name when he picked up."

Piper throws a pillow at the naked woman walking away from her. "Ass."

Alex playfully slaps her own cheek as she disappears into the bathroom, "Might wanna throw something on before Chuck shows up with your stuff."

Piper darts quickly from the bed into the sitting room. She folded her clothes on the table by the door between their evening romps, never bothering to dress in them again when Alex had offered her a tank and shorts of hers.

She barely managed to throw her sweater over her wild hair before hearing a knock at the elevator door. Unsure what to do, she offered a timid, "Come in" and was thankful when the door opened without her assistance.

By the time she made her way back to the bathroom, Alex was exiting wrapped in a robe and a smile, "All yours."

When Piper emerged from the bathroom after a quick shower of her own, Alex was dressed in back jeans and a flannel button up over a black tank from her seemingly endless supply. She approached and offered a soft kiss. "Good morning, Beautiful."

The two enjoyed breakfast at one of Alex's go-to bagel huts several blocks away. Alex asked how Piper felt about heading across the bridge to her place for the remainder of the weekend. "We'll talk," she offered. "We'll take the weekend and we'll just talk and be together and see if we are still as good together out of bed as we are in it."

Alex checked out of her suite while Piper ducked in to her office to collect some clothes and her toiletries - thankful for this stash a second time in 24 hours. She waited until the noon hour when her team would be at lunch in order to avoid inevitable questions on her day off.

They arrived back at Alex's house by mid afternoon. Piper was intrigued when Alex's first action upon returning home was to put a bowl of cat food on the porch.

"You have a cat?" She knew Alex had been in the city all week and was concerned.

Alex laughed softly, "Sort of. I would say it's more of a 'A cat has me' type situation. He just showed up shortly after I moved in and I started putting food out. Linda across the street puts it out when I'm not here. Hugh kind of does what he wants. Never had a mouse in here, though. So that's a perk."

"Well, I can't wait to meet him." Piper smiled. "That sounds so weird to say to you even though I know it's about a cat."

Alex kissed her with a little more possessiveness than the last time, "Definitely a cat."

After giving Piper a quick tour of her modest, comfortably decorated home, Alex made coffee and they made their way to the front porch.

"What do you say we continue our 20 questions from last night?" Piper ventured.

Nodding in agreement, Alex offered to begin, "What's your worst habit?"

Piper smiled into her mug, "Starting with an easy one, eh Vause?"

Alex shrugged and sipped her coffee.

They talked all afternoon there on the porch, sipping coffee and learning the adult versions of each other. They promised honest answers and taking things one day at a time.

Piper met Linda and Hugh. She told Alex about her several failed attempts at love and how she smiled every time she had to explain her tattoo.

Alex drove Piper to her office Monday morning like it was the most natural thing she'd ever done.

"Call me," she joked after a sweet kiss over the center console.

Piper smiled back, "You know I will."


End file.
